


To the victor

by MrsPurplePebble



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Archery, Bullying, Canon Compliant, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, M/M, Male Slash, hurt-merlin, x-posted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-10-04
Packaged: 2017-11-15 12:25:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 77,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/527294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsPurplePebble/pseuds/MrsPurplePebble
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a fellow prince, Arthur's childhood friend, arrives for their annual competition, Arthur realises there is more to lose than is willing to risk. With the only choice to win, Arthur is prepared to do anything to save all he holds dear, but with Merlin involved, a bitter rival, and three rounds of challenges, things are never going to be easy. ( Set during the S1-S2 gap.) Updated with front cover</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all,  
> So i originally wrote this is 2009/2010 and posted on FF.net, so why you might ask am i posting up here?  
> Well 3 reasons really.  
> First, I'm super excited for season 5 starting this coming Saturday and wanted to contribute something to this great fandom again.  
> Secondly, i am seriously considering writing a squeal set season 4-5, which i would post here but without this its not going to make much sense.  
> Third, i am aware (via tumblr) some people prefer reading over here, and so here it is just for you. :)
> 
> There's a few tweaks and fixes but nothing major from the original.
> 
> so i hope you enjoy ppx

Prologue

“Go, go!” Arthur gestured pointing at the door. “Go enjoy the sun. I absolve you of all duties today.”

The servant Arthur spoke to frowned at this uncharacteristically generous gesture.  “But I have…”

Standing up from the breakfast table, Arthur approached him. Taking the plates out of his hands, and placing them back on the breakfast table, he physically turned the boy towards the door. “Go Merlin,” he ordered, and pushed him playfully. “Go.”

Leaning against the cold stone column in the second floor hallway, Merlin remembered this morning’s scene fondly. Although grateful for the time off it was not something he was used to. Back home in the village there had always been something do, errands to run, or a crop to tend, no matter the weather. Since taking the job of Arthur’s manservant, or all-round dogs body as it was more universally known, little had changed. He barely had time to breathe most days for all the polishing, washing and tidying it took to keep the prince looking presentable.

Not knowing what to do with himself other than avoid Gaius, whom he instinctively knew would happily fill his free hours for him, Merlin spent most of the morning aimlessly wandering the castle looking for something to occupy him. He hadn’t found anything even remotely interesting, apart from this one cool spot in the sun drenched castle. Still he was bored already and it was time to move on again. Maybe Gwen would be finished with her morning duties by now, or maybe he could find Arthur and they could go out for a ride down to the moon lake, take a late lunch with them.

With the most pleasing idea of how to spend his free afternoon now flooding his thoughts, he stepped forward out of the shadow, only for a flash of light to almost blind him as it shot through a window.

Pausing he gave his eyes time to readjust, before he peered through the window, this time cautiously shielding his eyes.

He soon saw the cause of his temporary blindness; a single brightly polished sword lay on the grass in exactly the right position to reflect the dazzling midday sun into his eyes. And lying next to it...

Merlin’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of him; flat on his back in the long grass, his feet and chest bare, golden hair shining almost as brightly as the scattered pieces of armour around him, lay his prince. A selection of Camelot’s knights was strewn in similar positions around him, most in the same state of undress, but Merlin’s attention was all on Arthur. It was mesmerising to watch him relaxing in the sunshine, and try as he might Merlin couldn’t pull himself away.

As he watched he kept waiting for Arthur to get up and spoil his enjoyment of the view, but the moments stretched out and still he lay there.  Arthur was stiller than Merlin could ever remember seeing him. Perhaps too still? The longer Merlin looked, and the longer Arthur failed to move, the more worried Merlin became. The relaxing scene began to change in his eyes, into something darker. 

Glancing once again across the prince’s muscular chest, he realised it was bruised a violent red, and now he noticed that one of his outstretched arms seemed to be reaching towards the sword that had blinded Merlin in the first place, almost as if he had been trying to get to it before... before what? Merlin’s mind began to spin with a dozen worrying possibilities, and before he had even finished the thought, he was running.

Had something slain his prince, surprising him unarmed? Is that why he was reaching for his weapon? Who? Or what? Another golem? A questing beast?

No, Merlin shook his head as he raced down the stairs and across the hall. It couldn’t be, he couldn’t go through that again. He couldn’t lose him, he wouldn’t! What would it cost him this time? Last time it had been his mother, then Gaius, but finally Nimueh, his arch enemy was the one sacrificed.

Nimueh... The very name tightened his throat. How many times had she threatened Arthur’s life? His own life too, but she was dead now, he was sure of it; he had killed her, hadn’t he?

Finally to his relief the huge door to not only outside, but to the answers he was craving appeared, and wasting no time he burst from the cold corridors, out onto the grass of the training field.

Running faster than he thought possible, Merlin pushed himself to his limit, only to fall to his knees the moment he reached Arthur’s side.

With his heartbeat so loud in his ears, he only just about heard as his own name slip from Arthur’s lips on a laboured breath.

“Merlin?”


	2. Chapter 2

"Merlin!" Arthur groaned the name again, the syllables involuntarily rolling from the back of his throat to spill from his lips, as he opened his eyes slowly. Only to find to himself looking up into the blue eyes he had been trying not to imagine.

"Sire?" Merlin panted, concern shining in his eyes. "Are you okay?"

As rushed and frantic as his servant looked Arthur was amused by the fact that he remembered to use an official title in front of the scattered knights, maybe all those etiquette lesson's were finally beginning to sink in. That was a good thing he reminded himself quickly, as part of him felt disappointed not to hear Merlin call him by his name.  
Moving slowly and deliberately, as he pushed all thoughts away Arthur begun to raise himself up onto his elbows. "It is a beautiful day," he spoke slowly at first, his tone becoming harder as he continued. "And I have no duties. You have no duties either, and I know that because I gave you the day off. What I didn't do however is give you that time so you could hover over me like a blasted rain cloud, and ruin my sunshine!"

Rocked back on his heels, Merlin looked surprised by his movement, "I thought..."

"You're in my sun," Arthur interrupted, and pushed him to one side before lying back down, unable to believe he had almost been missing the boys presence.

Closing his eyes once more, Arthur tried to re-concentrate on the lulling movements of his own chest rising and falling with each lazy breath, just as he had been before that shadow he had instinctively known belong to Merlin, appeared across his face.

It was too late, the moment of relaxation had long disappeared, and now under the hot sun all he could feel was the sweat beaded across his bare chest, prickling his irritated skin.

Frozen where he had been pushed, Merlin was still in shock. Arthur was fine? He had just been sun bathing?

As the realisation sunk in, a smile he could not resist lit up his face. Arthur was fine! He had faced nothing more sinister than the intense heat, and perhaps an over enthusiastic training session.

Relaxing Merlin now looked up to the burning sun, of course, that was the reason for the reddened tone of Arthur's skin. He should have known, an endless stream of people with similar burns had been lining up outside Gaius chamber for the last week, desperate for a lotion to cool them.

"Merlin!"

Jumping as Arthur called his name again, Merlin was caught off guard.

"What do you want?"

"I..." Merlin stumbled under Arthur's question. Too embarrassed to admit the truth he desperately searched for a better story. Dare he approach that idyllic plan, which for a few seconds he hoped would be the way he would spend this afternoon?

"Well?" Arthur prompted impatiently, sitting back up, when no answer came.

Merlin's face flushed as he noticed the heads of the knights beginning to rise, apparently interested to hear his answer. "I thought..."

He was cut off suddenly by the harsh clang of the castle's warning bell reverberating round the courtyard. Before Merlin could even react, Arthur was on his feet and running for the nearest gate. The knights were close on the prince's heels, their reactions almost as fast as Arthur's, and within a second Merlin was left sitting alone on the parched grass.

Jumping to his feet Merlin raced to catch up, his heart sinking, as all those imagined situation of Arthur's fate came rushing back.

***

  
Rushing from the doorway into the courtyard with the bell still ringing in her ears, Morgana paid no heed to her trailing servant calling for her to slow. She knew Uther’s order’s and she knew the speed he expected her to act on them. So concerned was she with trying not to trip on the hem of her long dress, she didn’t see him until it was too late.

  
“Arthur!” she cried, grabbing his arm as the bulk of the prince crashed into her at full force, threatening to send her to the ground.

“Morgana!” Arthur’s cry held as much indignation as hers. “What is going on?” He demanded after a second, his eyes now moving around the courtyard where colourful banners were quickly unfurling from every available window.

“You don’t…?” She caught herself from continuing the question when she saw the confusion in his eyes. “A messenger arrived, not ten minutes ago,” she answered quickly, and pushed away Gwen’s hands as the servant tried to take advantage of her stillness to adjust the hastily thrown on dress.  
Arthur looked as if he were trying to keep his temper - or his lunch, she wasn’t sure which. “From?”

“King James of Limpnee.”

They both jumped, because the answer hadn’t come from her. Spinning quickly she found the king standing close behind them, wearing almost the most elaborate robes he owned without a single hair out of place.

Continuing forward Uther stepped past them both. “Come, let us greet them.”

“No, no,” Arthur moaned almost below his breath at no one in particular as he and Morgana both moved to comply with his father’s order. “Not yet.”

Turning as she heard him, the colour drained from Morgana’s face, her realisation coming slower than Arthur had.

“No you can’t,” she whispered, reaching out to grasp his arm but missing as he turned away, “Arthur you…” The rest of her words were lost as the sound of fifty horses grew louder, and the first magnificent looking animal galloped into the courtyard focusing everyone’s attention.

“James!” Arthur heard his father great loudly. “You are early.”

Once he had dismounted, the newly arrived king took Uther’s offered hand in both of his. “I do have reason and I am very grateful you could accommodate us at such short notice. I understand if you are not ready, it must be an inconvenience.”

“Nonsense, we are always ready for friends,” Uther bluffed, and Arthur smiled as he recognised it as such. After all, princely arrogance was an act that he had practised more in his short life than possibly anything else. He knew for a fact that even as his father played down the disruption of their appearance, at least a hundred servants pulled from their normal jobs would be racing to dress the castle for guests, just to keep the charade going.

Charades had their place of course. Camelot could not look weak in any way, he understood that. Despite what some people thought, he wasn’t stupid. He was the prince and with that came a heavy responsibility of appearance. Every fight had to be won, every prey to be hunted, every challenge to be vanquished. Only when he was alone could he drop the act that it was always easy.

“You are welcome any time,” Uther was continuing, but as he looked over the shoulder of the fellow king, his brow wrinkled. More horses arrived, but he did not see what he expected. “What of your son?” he questioned, concern etched into every furrow of his face. “He is not ill I hope?”

“He is not, ah...” James paused as another well-armoured horse appeared in the courtyard. “Simply a slow rider.”

Arthur’s heart sank as he saw Uther smile at the arriving prince. Slightly older, and taller than Arthur, he seemed to gain a respect from the king that Arthur himself did not.

“You would be slow too, father,” Kay spoke as he pulled his horse close to the King’s, “if you had just fought a griffin.”

Arthur’s eyebrow rose at the quickly named foe. So it had already begun. He didn’t know whether the naming of a griffin was just a coincidence, or a deliberate barb. It was feasible that news had reached Limpnee of Arthur’s own failure to kill such a thing months back.

“My boy,” James announced proudly before turning his attention to Arthur. “Oh Arthur I did not recognise you.” Stepping closer, his eyes quickly skimmed the prince. “You look…well. I hope we did not catch you unawares?” he asked, noticing Arthur’s state of undress.

Arthur watched his father’s face turn black, and knew he would get a lecture about that later. But it wasn’t his fault they had turned up more than a month early. Biting his tongue Arthur dipped his head at the king in greeting. “Sire.”

Taking James’ arm, Uther encouraged him to move further down the now formed receiving line and on to the more appropriately regaled Morgana.

Rolling his eyes, Arthur jumped when a different voice addressed him.

“Who are they?”

Arthur clenched his jaw tight as the question was accompanied by the feeling of a body gently pressed into his back. Merlin; he had forgotten about Merlin! Turning quickly he faced his servant.

“Retrieve my armour and take it to my room. Wait for me there,” he ordered quickly, unsure himself as to why he had added the last instruction.  
Merlin paused in confusion

“Now, Merlin!” Arthur snapped as he looked back only to see his fellow prince dismounting his horse and turning their way.

“But can’t I…”

“Merlin,” Arthur practically growled through gritted teeth, his eyes blazing, “get away from me!”

Arthur’s ferocity shocked Merlin and he stepped back. This new king was obviously important, but it wasn’t as if Merlin had never met a king before. Just because he had accused the last one of plotting murder, did not mean anything.

Moving away quickly he gave Gwen standing behind her mistress a questioning look, only for her to turn away from his gaze rather than return his smile. Now he really was confused. No matter what was going on, he could always rely on her for a conspiratorial smile, especially when their masters were behaving unreasonably.

Sneaking behind the line of knights that had seemingly appeared from nowhere fully dressed in their best uniforms, Merlin headed for the closest door back to the training field.

“Arthur!”

“Kay!”

Standing in the doorway, Merlin could not help but look behind him as the names of the two princes rang aloud through the courtyard. His eyes were just in time to see them embrace warmly, and pat each other on the back.

Irrational jealousy slithered through him at the sight. Who was this dark haired visitor? More importantly, why was Arthur greeting him so affectionately? Lowering his head as he turned away to comply with his master’s wishes, Merlin had never felt more like the servant he was.


	3. Chapter 3

Standing at the window in Arthur’s room, Merlin scanned the now empty courtyard. All sign of princes and kings had gone, and just a few servants, some Merlin recognised and some he didn’t, carried varying shapes and sizes of baggage to and from various doors.

‘King James...’ Merlin wracked his brain as he watched, but the name meant nothing to him, nor that of his son Kay. That wasn’t surprising though really, he reasoned with himself. After all, he had been in Camelot less than a year. Now that really was surprising to him. His previous life seemed a far distant memory. He felt so at home here now, it was almost as if he had been born within the castle walls. Life without Camelot, without duties and responsibilities, without Arthur was almost unimaginable.

With his thoughts far away, Merlin jumped as the heavy door of Arthur’s quarters swung back in its doorframe and crashed loudly against the table positioned precariously, as Merlin had always thought, behind it.

“Arthur!” he greeted, spinning quickly with little doubt as to who else would enter the room like that.

“Clothes!” Arthur demanded, his eyes failing to meet his servant, instead settling somewhere above his left shoulder. “Something smart.”

That demand was all that escaped the distracted prince, until he was washed and dressed in something he had barely even looked at when Merlin offered it.

Merlin cleared his throat, uncomfortable in the now palpable silence, as he brushed the last stray thread from the shoulder of Arthur’s jacket and found himself at a loss what to do next.

Arthur took a deep breath and finally looked at his servant. “My father has called a feast tonight to celebrate James and Kay’s arrival. I need you to…”

“Oh I don’t have to wear the outfit, do I?” Merlin interrupted with a quick smile, trying to lighten the mood with the memory of all the feathers adorning his official servant’s clothes.

“No.” Arthur looked down and began pulling at his fresh shirt, fidgeting uncomfortably. “I shan’t need you tonight.”

Merlin could not hide his surprise, and a deep frown creased his brow. “Who will serve you?”

“Merlin, you are not to attend,” Arthur commanded, meeting his servant’s eyes briefly before turning from them again. “I don’t want you there, is that clear?”

In shock, Merlin barely even noticed Arthur beginning to move until he was already at the door. “Is this because of Bayard?”  
Arthur’s footsteps faltered at the question, but it was not enough to halt his progress, and the door slamming behind him was all the answer Merlin got.

***

  
Despite the fact that the sun hadn’t completely set yet the small dining hall was already lit with hundreds of candles, which only served to heat the stifling air further. So much so Arthur could feel the sweat appear on his forehead the moment he stepped in through the double doors. But it was the least of his troubles. Falling into his usual chair at the heavy-laden table, he purposely averted his eyes from Morgana and gestured for wine.

“Arthur,” he heard her call his name in her lilting voice, as he picked up his cup, but still he refused to look. He knew what she would want and he had no answers for her. Looking to his left he smiled gratefully as Gwen appeared and began to fill his goblet. The only thing that would make tonight worse was for Merlin to appear, having ignored his orders, and be constantly questioning him with those powerful eyes of his. On the best of nights they could pull Arthur’s attention from across a crowded room, tonight they might ruin his composure completely.

“Arthur.” Morgana’s whispered call came again, and again he ignored her.

Finally looking up as a deep cough grasped his attention, Arthur was surprised to see his father standing over him, with their guests standing just a step behind.

Arthur shot up out of his seat. “Sorry, sire,” he offered in apology, knowing it was expected. He hadn’t heard him arrive, and consequently failed to show him the proper greeting. Something his father wouldn’t be impressed by. “I didn’t…”

Waving away his words, Uther had already turned back to the guest king and was gesturing for him to take the seat nearest to his own at the head of the table.

“Too much sun today, Arthur?” Kay teased as he took a seat next to Morgana.

Morgana giggled as she re-took her own seat. “He does look a little flushed.”

Arthur forced a tepid smile on to his face. “Something like that,” he agreed, looking away and taking a deep mouthful of his wine. Tonight was going to be a long one.

***

  
Stomping through Gaius’ chamber, his face as dark as the night sky, Merlin found his own bedroom and threw himself face down on to his bed with a groan. Question after question bounced around his head. What was going on? Why was Arthur behaving this way, and what on earth was he going to do with the rest of his night?

“Merlin?” The quiet voice of his surrogate father finally pulled his attention, and rolling over he looked up to see Gaius standing in the doorway. “Why aren’t you at dinner?”

Groaning again Merlin closed his eyes and fought the urge to roll over and bury his face back in the rough sheets.

As he felt the bed dip next to him with Gaius’ weight he realised the old man wasn’t going to give up any time soon.

“Arthur doesn’t want me there.” He spoke without opening his eyes. “He doesn’t trust me around another king.”

Gaius was silent for a long time. “I don’t think it’s the king he’s worried about.”

Sitting bolt-upright Merlin’s eyes were open now. “Kay?” he questioned. “Why, what do you know?”

“Arthur and Kay have a…” Gaius paused to search for the right word. “…complicated friendship.”

Merlin was intrigued. “Complicated how?”

Gaius moved to stand. “You know I don’t partake in kitchen gossip Merlin.”

Reaching out Merlin grabbed his friend’s arm gently. “Gaius please, Arthur is being more of an ass than usual; he won’t talk to me, he will barely even look at me. How am I to do my job if I don’t know why?”  
Whether it was the logic in his words, or because the pleading in his voice was so strong, Merlin wasn’t sure, but Gaius settled back down on the edge of the bed and removed his glasses.

“King James and Uther have been friends for a long time. Uther’s wife, Arthur’s mother, was a distant relative of James in fact. Every year at this time, James travels north to reinforce an unstable alliance he has with Griswold. On his return, he spends several weeks in Camelot. Kay is his eldest son of four, but the only one from James’ first wife. As his heir James has always kept Kay close, bringing him every visit. When Uther and James would talk long into the night, Arthur and Kay would play together. It was childish games at first, but as they grew, they became more and more competitive, always looking to outdo each other. Prove they were stronger, faster, braver, than the other.”  
Merlin was gripped. He could not imagine Arthur having a childhood friend, but it would explain the closeness he had witnessed earlier. Biting his lip to keep back all the new questions he had, he hoped his silence would encourage Gaius to continue the story. It did.

“Five years ago the Kings decided to intervene, and now the princes’ competition is an official one that takes place every year.” Gaius’ story came to an abrupt end, and this time Merlin couldn’t stop himself from speaking.

“Why make it official?” he demanded. It seemed like there was more the old man wasn’t telling him.

“Merlin,” Gaius sighed, and stood up. “You have to remember they are princes, heirs to great kingdoms. If one were to hurt the other, it would not just be their own lives at stake. Alliances, no matter how old, can and have been broken by less. War is not something anyone wants to risk.”

Merlin was silent for a moment as he let the information sink in. Most days it was too easy for him to forget just who his master was. Arthur was just Arthur to him, stupid, stubborn, prat-like Arthur, who Merlin would risk his life for in a heartbeat.

“So why is Arthur being…” he paused, unable to find a proper word to describe the prince. “...being like he is?”

“The competition,” Gaius reminded him resignedly. “It is a matter of great honour. Their Rivalry has become well-known. ”

Merlin smiled. “Arthur can beat anyone, why would this bother him?”

Gaius almost seemed to flinch at the question before composing himself. “Merlin, Arthur has lost for the last five years.”

***

  
Standing at the edge of the room, a heavy jug full of the best wine from Camelot’s cellars clasped tightly against her chest, Gwen watched the carefully gathered party closely. Any slight incline of her mistress’s goblet would prompt her into action. Tonight however she was doubly busy keeping her eye on Arthur as well, and he was drinking heavily. Breaking her gaze for a second, she looked around the edge of the hall and wondered, not for the first time, where Merlin was.

“Hello.” A strange voice at her side made her jump, and she gripped tighter to her jug, fearful of spilling any of the contents. Turning quickly her eyes took in the wide smile of a servant she had never seen before.

  
“Hello,” she said back, blushing. The newcomer was the same height as Arthur and with similar coloured hair. In fact if she hadn’t known the prince so well she would have needed to look twice. His strong features and wide shoulders also reminded her of if not the prince at the very least a knight, but she could guess who he was.

“Im Geoffrey, Kay’s manservant.”

She nodded. It was as she guessed; she had never known Kay to have the same servant two years in a row, and generally never one who looked any less trained than your average knight.

“Gwen,” she introduced her self. “The Lady Morgana’s maid.”

Before their conversation could progress past introductions, they were both called into service as Morgana and Kay tilted their goblets at the same time.

Stepping forward, she stood patiently at the side of the table, waiting for her time. As she did she could hear Kay finishing what sounded like a fanciful tale.  
“…and then with my spear couched under my bruised arm, I finished the creature with such a stab, it was propelled backwards into the river.”

“My gosh!” Morgana looked enthralled. “Are you still hurt?”

Kay smiled at her alone, and leant closer. “A little.”

“What a shame,” Arthur said loudly, interrupting their moment. “I was going to ask if you wished to join me in a hunt tomorrow morning, but if you are not up to it...?”

“A wonderful idea,” Uther praised his son, breaking away from his own conversation.

“I am sure I can manage,” Kay agreed, with little choice but to do so.

Arthur nodded, his smile widening. “Early then.”

“Early,” Kay agreed, raising his cup, only to remember it was still empty. Turning he held it to his manservant. “Oh Arthur,” he said as if just remembering. “I don’t believe you have met Geoffrey. My servant this year.” Pausing he looked over to where Gwen, having refilled Morgana’s goblet, was now moving back to Arthur. “I presume that pretty thing is not your own representative.”

Arthur smiled tightly and pulled his eyes from the servant Kay had indicated. “No. I have him on a different task. You shall meet him soon.”

As the servants began to drift away, Kay refused to let the subject drop. “Good. I wouldn’t like to think you were hiding anything, Arthur.”

Looking up from his filled cup, Arthur bristled. “Are you accusing me of something?”

Kay just laughed. “Of course not, but I presume you are ready for our little competition, and that our early arrival wont effect your… performance?”

Arthur’s anger disappeared as quickly as it had formed. He had been waiting all night for that question, but for some reason when it came it struck ice in his heart. Opening his mouth to answer he suddenly caught his father’s eyes. The kings had once again broken their conversation to listen in on that of their sons. Arthur’s throat was dry as he felt the weight of his father’s expectation on him. “I was thinking…”

“Of course he’s ready,” Uther interrupted his son. “He has been talking about it for weeks you know.”

“Good, good,” Kay smiled, picking at the food on his plate so that he didn’t notice Arthur’s wince as Morgana’s foot connected with his under the table. “How does after the full moon suit you?”

Ignoring Morgana, Arthur narrowed his eyes at the prince. He had expected Kay to demand they start immediately, taking the full advantage their surprise arrival gave. Gripping tight on to his goblet, Arthur fought against the impulse to deny him the request. After all, he needed all the time he could get.

“New moon, new victor, sound’s good to me,” he boasted, and forced another large gulp of wine down his tight throat.

***

  
“I don’t believe him!” Morgana raged the second the door to her bedroom closed behind her. Snatching her wrap from her shoulders, she threw it on to the bed in anger. “He’s going to go through with it!”  
Gwen nodded sadly, she had heard. “It is tradition, I guess.”

“Tradition be damned, do you realise what will happen if he loses again? This is all Arthur’s fault! How can he agree to this? Why was he not ready?”

Gwen was silent as she helped Morgana undress. She knew exactly what would happen, but she couldn’t bare the thought of it. She also could not quite condemn Arthur with the same strength as her mistress. James and Kay were more than a month early, this was not a problem any of them had thought about considering yet. More than that, at dinner she had seen something in Arthur’s eyes, something that in anyone else she would have called fear. “Surely he won’t...?” she questioned, hope tinting her quiet voice.

Morgana just sighed. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “It’s Arthur, who knows what he will do.”

***

  
Sitting down on his own bed, Arthur closed his eyes. Was he really going to go through with it? If not how was he going to get out of the competition without letting down his father?  
Rubbing at his eyes, Arthur shook his head. He was sick of thinking. Moving to take off his shirt something suddenly caught his attention. Perched on the edge of the nearest table was a small dark bottle. He recognised it as something belonging to Gaius, of course. Reaching for it he felt his heart twitch. It could only be from one person.

As he pulled it to him, a slip of paper floated free from the table to the floor. Moving twice as quick he grabbed it from the air.

‘Use before sleep, will soothe your skin. Promise.’ M

Looking down at the bottle, he pulled the stopper and saw a thick creamy liquid, the sweet smell of which was familiar. Merlin had given it to him before, after the last time he had spent too long lying in the sun. Like all of Gaius’ potions, it had worked well, soothing the tightness of the burns almost immediately. He imagined the physician would be under high demanded for this at the moment, what with the seemingly endless sunshine that was currently blessing Camelot, and yet Merlin had thought to find him a bottle.

Falling back on to the bed, Arthur scrunched the paper in his fist, and sighed. What was he going to do?

 


	4. Chapter 4

With soft steps, Merlin walked the long corridor to Arthur’s room, juggling easily with a pair of apples. The sun was barely up, but he was already heading towards the prince. Not a wise move by most people’s standards; Arthur disliked early mornings with a passion, especially after a feasting night.

However, Merlin could wait no longer. Gaius’ story of Arthur having lost the last three battles he had engaged in with Kay concerned and confused him at the same time. He could get no more than that out of Gaius for a start.

If Arthur was worried about the coming competition, Merlin wanted to be there to help, and if that involved being shouted at for waking him early so he could get in a few extra hours of training, then so be it.

If Arthur wasn’t worried, and Gaius had got the story wrong - which Merlin was secretly convinced would prove to be the case - then well, he was probably about to get a torrent of abuse for no real reason.

Losing his appetite with that last thought, Merlin’s smile faded, until he saw a familiar face standing close to the door he was heading for.

“Good morning, George,” he called, and threw one of the apples he had been playing with at the guard.

George waved back with a smile as he caught the apple and quickly took a bite.

Merlin smiled despite himself. He tried to bring something for the guards most mornings. He knew their job was a thankless one. If anything the guards of Camelot were even more ignored than the servants; most people walked past without even noticing them.

Knocking lightly on the door, Merlin turned back to the job at hand and called for the prince. “Arthur?” When no answer came, Merlin looked quickly over his shoulder to make sure no one was close. With a spell on his lips to force the lock he touched the door handle and was surprised as the door swung inwards, already open.

“Arthur?” Merlin stepped cautiously into the room, only to find it already empty. Stunned, the boy didn’t know what to do. For a second he was tempted to call the prince’s name again, just in case his eyes were deceiving him.

As he looked around the room, it became clear that the prince had returned at some point in the night. The bottle Merlin had left for him lay empty and on its side. But perhaps more obviously, the sheets of the royal bed, which he had left perfectly made without a crease in them, were tangled almost beyond recognition and in the case of one, ripped.

As strange as it might be, Merlin was forced to conclude Arthur had got up himself, and early. Shaking his head, he wondered if it was something to do with Kay. He had never known Arthur to get up this early for any other reason. Normally for the prince to be out of bed at this time, he was more likely to be still awake from the night before than to have risen already.

Even if he accepted the logical conclusion, as he looked at the empty bed, Merlin was still left with another question. Where was Arthur now?  
-  
Gripping the reins of his favourite horse, Arthur swung himself up on to her back and looked out across the empty courtyard. Kay was nowhere to be seen yet, and the relief he felt was immense. Never would he have believed the palace could be so deserted at this time. Still, he was grateful for it. He didn’t need to see anyone right now, no conversations, no time to think. He just needed to get away. Get away from the thing that had caused him to toss and turn all night, sleep constantly just out of reach. He had to be somewhere there was no chance of seeing the blue eyes he normally craved, no chance of seeing the smile that warmed him inside.

“Well, come on then!” he barked impatiently at the two bleary-eyed knights he had pulled from their beds, demanding that they accompany him.

As much as he wished to be alone, the story that he was out hunting would hold that much more weight if he took someone with him. Their sleepiness however irked him more than he was expecting, reminding him of what he hadn’t attained himself. With a roll of his eyes, Arthur turned his horse and set out for the castle gate. They could catch up to him if they wanted, if they ever got on their horses that was. At least it would be reported he had asked them to join, even if it was to be coupled with a story of his short temper. Which he could always blame on Kay’s non-appearance.

With a sharp jab of his heels into his horse’s flanks, Arthur galloped out of the castle gates, and heedless of the surprised knights trailing after him calling his name, did not slow down until the first rays of the waking sun bathed him in their warm light.

***

  
“Arthur, I have to speak…”

Merlin guiltily jumped to his feet from his seat on the newly made bed, as Morgana appeared in the doorway of Arthur’s suite. Turning quickly he smoothed away the creases he had made while he sat and waited, not knowing what else to do.

“Oh Merlin, it’s you.” Morgana failed to hide her disappointment as her eyes lit upon the servant. “Where is Arthur?”  
Merlin was surprised to see the normally so composed Morgana flustered by his presence. “I don’t know,” he was forced to admit. “I haven’t seen him all morning,” he added as Morgana seemed lost as to what to do next. As much as he didn’t like it, he was beginning to wonder if Arthur was in fact avoiding him, first at the dinner and now this morning.

Morgana looked over her shoulder. “…but Kay is here, I just saw…” she trailed off as she realised Merlin had no idea what she was talking about.

“Kay?” Merlin was beginning to grow sick of that name already.

Morgana took a breath. “Arthur invited Kay to go hunting with him this morning, but it seems he had already left. Uther isn’t going to be impressed.”

Gathering his things to him, Merlin was already on his way past her. “I’ll find him.”

“No,” Morgana grabbed his arm, “you have your own duties, and when you are done with those you can check on Kay. Make sure he is being provided everything he needs.” Looking around, her eyes lit on the guard still standing by Arthur’s door. “Send George.”

“I…” Merlin hesitated; he knew he would be able to find Arthur quicker than anyone else would. Especially if he used a little help, but there was no way of explaining that to Morgana that she would understand. Silently he nodded, and watched petulantly as she called the guard into the room and gave her orders to find the prince.

Forcing himself to swallow the guilt at betraying Arthur’s favourite place, Merlin spoke up once she had finished. “George, do you know where the Moon Lake is?” When the guard nodded, Merlin smiled weakly. “Check there first.”  
-  
Kneeling at the side of the water, Arthur wet his hands and patted the refreshing cold across his face. Today was turning out to be another scorcher, and he had already drunk all the water he had brought with him.

Standing up he patted his horse and encouraged her to drink too. He had ridden her hard this morning, barely slowing for anything. Those knights he had woken never had any chance of catching him up, if they had even tried. Which he wasn’t convinced they had.

Looking around him his eyes scanned everything and yet he saw nothing. The freedom from the castle walls had done little to improve his mood. Everything he held dear was at risk but he had no idea what to do about it. He couldn’t refuse to take part in the competition; his father would never forgive him. To lose in battle was one thing; to refuse to take part would be another. It would look like he was scared, and he wasn’t; Kay didn’t scare him, but for the first time the thought of the opposing prince claiming the prize did.

“Prince Arthur! Prince Arthur!” His shouted name interrupted his thoughts, and he looked up as it was accompanied by the sound of hooves thundering towards him.

Automatically Arthur’s hand moved to the hilt of his sword hanging from his hip. “Who goes there?” he demanded, unable to get a clear view through the trees.

“Prince Arthur, it is me, George.”

Arthur squinted closer at the shape amongst the trees. George... that name sounded familiar. Certainly it was another one of those that Merlin had told him time and time again. The boy had stopped his horse the minute Arthur questioned him, and Arthur was certain he could make out the colours of Camelot. But why was a guard out here? If someone were looking for him, surely a knight would have been sent?

“The Lady Morgana sent me,” George called, almost as if he could read Arthur’s mind. “Prince Kay has been looking for you.”

Arthur rolled his eyes resignedly; at least he had got away for a short time. He knew he would be in trouble for leaving Kay behind as it was, but if he didn’t go back now it would be worse. Grabbing his horse’s reins, he pulled her towards the still seated George. “Ok let us return.” As he pulled himself up on to his horse, Arthur looked at the guard closer and felt a touch of disappointment. “Where’s Merlin?”

George kicked his horse into motion as Arthur had already done so. “The lady Morgana asked him to check on Prince Kay.”

At George’s words, Arthur forced his horse into a gallop. Why had she done that? Surely she knew he was trying to keep them apart? Rolling his eyes, Arthur realised that was probably the answer. She knew and she didn’t approve. Did she think he was hiding Merlin out of shame? He wasn’t; Merlin might be a bumbling idiot at times, most of the time, but Arthur had no desire to find a new servant...

Arthur sat bolt upright in the saddle, almost pulling his horse to a dead stop. That was it! With a new manservant his problems would be solved. He could concentrate on the competition, on beating Kay, on everything he needed to.

Urging his horse back into a gallop, Arthur knew there were only two thing’s standing between him and his newly formed plan.

The first was getting back in time, before Kay was introduced to Merlin. If Merlin was to disappear after Kay knew who he was the prince could get suspicious, and that would mean trouble for the tournament.

The second was to convince Merlin to leave. Maybe he could tell him it was a holiday? Time off for good work? No, no one would believe that, but he could send him to his mother’s for a week or two, or if he really wouldn’t go Arthur could always lock him up. Okay, maybe that was a little extreme, Arthur admitted to himself, but he would do whatever he had to. As long as it meant Merlin was anywhere but near Kay, all would be fine.

Looking over his shoulder, Arthur once again regarded the guard following him. “George is it?” he was forced to shout over the sound of both riders crashing through the forest, unwilling to slow for even a second.

“How would you feel about a new job?”

***

  
Standing in the stables, Merlin looked around him. He couldn’t wait in Arthur’s room any longer, he was starting to go crazy. His duties were complete; Arthur’s armour, polished to a sparkling finish, sat in its rightful place. His clothes were clean and folded. His bedchamber spotless. Rolling his eyes Merlin knew he should do as Morgana had asked, but he really didn’t want to. He was sure he would have to deal with Kay sooner or later, but he desperately hoped it was later. Although the man that could beat Arthur in competition intrigued him, for some reason he could not bring himself to think of him in a friendly way.  
So Merlin had ended up here, looking around and wondering where all the stable boys were. He knew Morgana had told him not to go, but he could go and be back before anyone would know. That was if only he could find someone to get him a horse.

“You!”

Merlin jumped as the booming shout ripped through the relative silence of the stable block. Turning around he hoped it wasn’t the head groom. He had been in trouble more than once with the man, mainly for Arthur’s wrong doing, but it had resulted in Hennery threatening to lock him in a stall with a horse the next time he saw him.

Merlin let out a breath as he saw the culprit. It wasn’t Hennery, that much was certain. It was worse.

Standing in the doorway, a servant behind him, Prince Kay addressed him. “Where is my horse?”

“I err…sorry Sire.” He bowed his head as the prince came closer, desperate not to let down Arthur with his etiquette. “I don’t know, I’m not…”

“You’re not getting my horse,” Kay snarled, “and I am waiting!”  
  
Kay’s temper was palpable, exacerbated by Arthur’s disappearing act no doubt, and Merlin wasn’t sure what to do about it.

“I’m not…” Merlin looked around him, hoping to find one of the elusive grooms to help. “I don’t know which is your horse. I’m sorry.”

Stomping forward, Kay’s eyes narrowed as he used his height to force Merlin backwards until his back was flat against a closed stable door. “Don’t you know who I am?”

“Yes Kay,” Merlin nodded eagerly. “I know, but I don’t work for…”

“How dare you adress me like that” Kay snapped, the last strand of his patience worn away by Merlin’s refusal to help. “You insignificant wretch! I will teach you to do as you’re told!”

Merlin’s eyes widened as he heard something wooden being snapped, and then even further when he saw a hastily made cudgel appear in Kay’s hand.

“Avid…” Protective spells instantly sprang to his lips to send the weapon spinning from Kay’s hand, but Merlin bit them back again. If Kay heard him he would of course report him to Uther, he would be forced to deny it, and Arthur would be pulled into the middle. After the debacle with Bayard he couldn’t do that to the prince again.

Instead, Merlin braced himself for the blow.  



	5. Chapter 5

The first blow landed square on Merlin's shoulder, forcing his knees to buckle under the impact. The second, had it landed where it was aimed, would have shattered his cheekbone, but instead the wood of the stall door behind him took the brunt, and splintered angrily on impact.

 Opening eyes he didn't even remember closing, Merlin quickly realised why the pain was less than he had expected.

A foreign pair of hands gripped tightly at Kay's arm, pulling the cudgel blow off target.

"Get off me!" Kay shouted, as surprised by their interference as Merlin was, even more so as he turned to face his assailant. "You?" he growled.

"What do you think you are doing?"

The voice was familiar to Merlin, and his heart sank as Kay's movement revealed the person it belonged to. Despite the straight back and stern look, it wasn't someone the Prince was going to listen to. Forcing himself back to his feet, Merlin tried to step forward, but found another set of hands holding him back.

"Gwen no!" he shouted, struggling against Gregory's iron grip.

As Gwen's eyes finally met Merlin's they widened in surprise. Merlin smiled, realising she hadn't even known it was him being attacked when she had challenged the Prince. The fact that she would protect a stable boy as strongly as her best friend was just one of the reasons she was probably the most beloved servant in Camelot.

"You can't do that! Don't you know who…?"

"Go away," Kay snapped, not listening to her. "Or I'll report you to your mistress. I'm sure she will want to know why you dared to challenge me!"

Refusing to let go of his wrist Gwen moved further round in front of Merlin. "Go on then. The Lady Morgana won't let you do this!"

Practically growling with frustration, Kay finally gave the servant girl his full attention. Prying her hands forcefully from his he practically threw her across the stable, narrowly missing the hooves of a huge black animal as it returned.

"Avida chamuandra, kellios!" Merlin whispered below his breath. The risk of anyone hearing him was worth it now, and in the blink of an eye a large bale of straw flew across the stable to cushion Gwen's landing.

"KAY!"

The sudden shout stopped the enraged prince turning on Merlin again. Instead he turned to see the rider of the returning horse who had angrily bellowed his name.

 

***

"Arthur…I..." Kay dropped his angry indignation as quickly as he dropped his weapon.

"What do you think you are doing?" Arthur demanded as he dismounted.

Kay set his jaw. "Your servants need some discipline, Arthur! She put her hands on me and…"

Arthur turned away and stepping closer to the handmaiden he softened his eyes. "Gwen? What happened?"

Gwen was quickly back on her feet, pulling straw from her hair.. "He was trying to beat Merlin," she explained quickly, with no thought of her own ordeal.

"MERLIN?" Arthur snapped back just in time to see Kay gripping his servant by his loose shirt and pulling him out of the shadows. Trying to control the anger boiling in him, calmly he forced an order through gritted teeth. "Let him go!"

"You know this worthless excuse for a boy?"

"KAY! Let him go!"

Confusion etched on Kay's face. "What is wrong with you?"

With his eyes on his servant, Arthur's hold on his anger slipped a notch as past the pulled neck of Merlin's tunic he saw a fresh mark scarring the normally milky skin. "I don't beat my servants!"

Kay took a step back from Arthur's blazing eyes. "Well maybe that's why you lose every year."

His hand already a fist, Arthur stepped forward. "Doesn't mean I won't beat you."

A dark look formed on Kay's face and he pushed Merlin away from him, the servant now forgotten. "You can try!" he snapped. "It isn't me whose father is too scared to let us fight!"

The mention of Uther stopped Arthur in his tracks. Five years ago, it was indeed Uther who, upon seeing his son bruised and blooded out cold on Gaius' bed, decided enough was enough. Even when Arthur had woken and lied that his injuries were from failing out of a tree, Uther could not be dissuaded. The Laws of the competition were agreed and dictated that very night. The first and most important being that neither of the princes where to compete directly again.

Arthur's breath quickened and his eyes narrowed. Every muscle in his body tensed ready for action. He could take Kay now he was sure of it; five years was a long time. Taking a deep breath, he readied and forced his shoulders to relax. He would keep to his father's wishes even if it were the last thing in the world he wanted.

"What's wrong, Arthur?" Kay provoked, sensing his hesitation. "You need your man servant to fight for you?"

As he fought against his urge to throw the goading Kay against the nearest wall, Arthur's eyes unconsciously flicked to Merlin just for a second, but it was enough for Kay to see.

"No, no, that's not…" Kay's face lit up as he dissolved into laughter, shattering the tense atmosphere. "He's yours?"

Arthur paled instantly, his anger turning into a tight ball in his stomach. "No!" he denied quickly, his mouth turning up with an appalled smirk. "Of course not!"

Kay looked at Merlin, then back suspiciously to the blond prince, and raised his eyebrows.

"Do you really think I would have Merlin as a servant? Please!" Arthur rolled his eyes and spat Merlin's name with as much venom as he could find. "He's no one! That farm boy could barely even find his own shoes in the morning let alone mine!"

Kay's suspicion would not die. "Well, it would explain why you wanted to hide him."

Arthur laughed, even shocking himself at how real it sounded. "Honestly, I gave him a trial a year back - he was worse than useless, and now I can't seem to get rid of him."

Looking over to Merlin, Kay's eyes travelled up and down him. "I can see why you'd want to."

"Exactly…"Arthur mirrored the look of distain on Kay's face.

"Okay," Kay nodded, accepting Arthur's words. As he stepped forward his demeanour completely changed. "When do I get to meet this mysterious servant of yours?"

With a smile, Arthur nodded at the guard still standing in the doorway holding the reins of his horse, and bid him forward.

***

  
Sliding into the shadows, Merlin watched as Arthur clapped George welcomingly on the back. His own shoulder was beginning to ache, and he was confused.

Arthur's words stung. Useless? A farm boy? Trying to get rid of him? Was that how Arthur really thought of him? Arthur's anger at Kay's punishment of him had certainly disappeared quickly enough for it to be true.

Kay's next words pushed Merlin even further back, past the gawping Gwen and towards the door.

"Well he's no one to be ashamed of," the pompous prince said, looking appreciatively at George.

Suddenly the answer was clear. The reason why Arthur had sent him away yesterday, why he wouldn't let him serve at the banquet, why he couldn't even admit who Merlin was.  
Arthur was ashamed of him.

"Did you expect anything less?"

Arthur's words were the last thing Merlin heard before he stumbled out into the morning sunshine.

All right, he knew he wasn't the best servant, Arthur had told him that to his face, repeatedly, but he'd thought… he'd thought they were friends.

Closing his eyes, he shook his head at himself. He had been sucked in by the dragon's talk of their entwined destinies, and everyone else's talk of their closeness. It was all a lie. He obviously meant nothing to Arthur.

"Merlin!"

The voice jolted him from his thoughts, and looking up he found Morgana standing smiling in front of him, her eyes gently accusing him of not obeying her orders. Suddenly he felt guilty; maybe he was that bad a servant.

"Did you find him?" she asked with a smile, knowing all too well the only reason why he would be out here.

"He just got back." Nodding, he pointed towards the stable and ignored the roll of his stomach. "He is with Kay now."

Morgana's smile widened at the mention of the visiting prince. "Good."

Merlin remained silent; it was not a sentiment he could share. In the quiet pause, he could hear the voices of the princes growing. They must have left the stable too.

Noticing his discomfort, Morgana stepped closer and reached out to him gently. "Merlin are you okay?"

Jumping as she touched his injured shoulder, Merlin stepped away. "I…err... I have to go." Breaking into a run, he didn't wait to hear her answer.

***

  
"So, how was the hunt?"

Sitting at the head of a table scattered with paperwork, Uther smiled as his son and Kay appeared through the double doors of the hall. "Do we have something special to eat this evening?"

Arthur looked from his father to King James and back. He knew this wasn't going to go well. From the moment Morgana had found them in the stables with a message to appear in front of the kings as soon as possible, he had been dreading that question.

"I, err…"

"I'm afraid not, Sire," Kay spoke up at Arthur's side and approached the table. "We didn't go."

"Arthur?" Getting to his feet Uther's expression showed he was less than impressed. "Explain yourself!"

"I did…"

"It was my fault," Kay interrupted again. "I didn't get up early enough. Arthur is too much of an early bird for me."

"Perhaps next time," King James spoke softly as he reached out for his drink.

"Of course, my Lord," Arthur smiled.

Sated by his own son's small triumph, Uther too sat down. "Well what of this afternoon?"

Joining the kings, Kay took a seat at the table and looked back at Arthur. "I have no plans," he admitted. "Perhaps, Arthur, we could go and see if that stable boy has learnt what a horse looks like yet?"  
Arthur didn't answer, his mind already back on Merlin. By the time Kay had finished assessing George and Arthur had turned back towards Merlin, the boy had disappeared. That worried him more than he knew it should.

"Arthur?" Uther prompted when his son failed to answer the prince.

"No, father," Arthur answered quickly, refusing to look at any of them. "I have something to do. Excuse me."

Stopping only when he was outside in the corridor, Arthur took a deep breath. Now the threat of Kay finding out Merlin's true job was over, he could not stop thinking about the mark he had seen on Merlin, and it made him sick.  
How dare Kay touch him? How dare anyone? Merlin was his, no matter what he had said to Kay.

He had to find him.

 

***

  
Sitting at an open window in her chambers, Morgana stared at the sunset. "What a beautiful day," she sighed at Gwen, as the servant moved around her room tidying. "Don't you think?"

"Yes, milady," Gwen answered half-heartedly, not really listening.

"Summer is so much nicer when Kay is here," Morgana continued, not noticing her maid's lack of enthusiasm.

Gwen froze; she could understand why Morgana would feel that way. Kay had appeared at her door some hours earlier, a picnic basket in his arms and a plan for them to spend the afternoon together. Charm oozed from him, and Morgana had more than eagerly agreed. Guilty Gwen wondered if she should have tried to warn her about Kay's boorish behaviour.

"Gwen?" Morgana was starring at her know. "What's wrong?"

"Kay is…" she paused as she tried to work out the best way to explain all that had occurred this morning.

Her silence was well-timed, as just then a noise outside the door drew their attention, and they both looked up as Arthur burst thought the door.

Jumping to her feet Morgana was outraged. "Arthur what do you think you are…"

Ignoring her, the prince turned his eyes straight to the servant. "Gwen, where is he?"

She shook her head, instantly knowing who he was looking for. "I don't know."

Reaching out Arthur took her hands. "Tell me!"

"I don't know, Arthur, I don't." Gwen was saddened by the defeated look in his eyes, and she desperately wanted to help. "If he was hurt, Gaius maybe?"

Arthur shook his head. It was the first place he had looked. "Hasn't seen him all day. No one has."

"Will someone please tell me what is going on?" Morgana demanded, stepping forward.

The prince and the servant shared a look.

"I don't have time for this." Arthur turned away.

"Arthur fired Merlin," Gwen explained quickly, not willing to let the prince escape.

"I did not!" Arthur spun back around to defend himself. "I just…" He sighed.

Morgana shock her head. "Arthur what have you done?"

 

***

  
By the time Arthur arrived back at his room, night had fallen. Morgana's scorn at his plan had taken hours to impress on him.

He had wasted the whole day searching the castle for Merlin, and he had run out of places to look.

Opening the door the first thing that surprised him was the darkness of his room, not a single candle had been lit. Straining his eyes in the darkness a moving shadow caught his attention. Snapping his hand straight to his sword, he drew it without a second thought.

"Who's there?" he demanded, "Show yourself."


	6. Chapter 6

Stepping into the thin sliver of moonlight spilling in through the window, the intruder raised his hand at Arthur and smiled ruefully.

“It’s just me.”

“Damn it Merlin!” Spinning his sword easily in his hand, Arthur rolled his eyes at his servant. “What are you doing skulking around in here? And why is it so dark?”

Merlin shifted from one foot to the other. “I came to light your candles but then I realised I’m not your servant anymore.”

“Merlin...” Kicking the door closed behind him, Arthur involuntarily plunged them further into darkness. “Do you have to be such a girl, all the day long?”

“It’s what you told Kay.”

Arthur exhaled forcefully. “It was just a ploy Merlin. Surely even you could see that?”

“A ploy?” Merlin repeated.

“Yes, a ploy, a trick, a ruse, a strategy.” Taking a step forward Arthur swore as he bumped into a chair. “Now will you light something, before I break my neck?”

A candle lit almost instantly and Arthur flinched away from the bright flame suddenly stinging his eyes. As he looked back the first thing he saw was Merlin’s wide eyes shining like an excited puppy.

“So I am your servant?”

“More’s the pity.” Arthur nodded and moved to the bed, hiding a smile as he did.

Removing first his weapons, then his coat and shoes, Arthur could feel Merlin moving around the room, lighting the rest of the candles, and soon enough the room was bright again.

Turning around, he found the servant waiting for him with a question he wasn’t sure how to answer on his lips. “Why did you lie to Kay?”

Arthur could almost hear Morgana’s voice in the silence that followed as he failed to answer.

_“Why didn’t you just tell him from the start?”_

“Arthur?” Merlin prompted as he moved to tidy up the belongings Arthur had just discarded all over his bed.

Arthur shook his head and ignored the question. His plan was better, he was sure it was. Moving to the table, he sat down and took a drink. “When you’re finished with that, I want you to go and pack, Merlin.”

Merlin froze halfway to picking up Arthur’s boots. “Pack? Are we going somewhere?”

“You are,” Arthur answered quietly before looking up. “I want you to go back to Eldor, to your mother.”

Merlin approached the table now. “Eldor? My mother? Why? What’s going on? Have you heard something?”

Arthur shook his head quickly; he didn’t want to worry the boy. “Nothing, I just think you should spend some time with her, while you can.” Surprisingly he felt his own words tighten his chest, he hadn’t meant it like that. But now he couldn’t stop his thoughts drifting to his own mother, who he had never known.   

Moving silently across the room, Merlin knelt at his prince’s side.

Arthur snapped away from his thoughts. “It will only be for a few weeks,” he said, doggedly returning to his plan. “I will send for you to return.”

“Why?”

“Merlin, you can’t question me like that.” Arthur rolled his eyes. “How many times have I told you?”

Merlin moved his eyes as if attempting to count. “Twelve?” he guessed, with a smile.

Arthur laughed. “Well you can’t deny me either.”

Standing up Merlin moved back to tidying. “I can.”

Arthur thumped his goblet on to the table. “Merlin!”

Spinning around Merlin found the second question Arthur didn’t want to hear this evening. “Is this because of the competition?”

“How do you know about that?” he demanded. “Who told you?”

Merlin hesitated. “I… well Gaius mentioned that you and Kay…”

“Kay.” Arthur repeated the name that had caused all his problems. “Stay away from him, Merlin. I don’t want you…” Arthur stopped himself as he read the look on Merlin’s face, and he remembered the reason he had been searching for his servant all day. “What happened between you this morning?”

***

Merlin took a deep breath. Every time he thought he was getting close to the answers he wanted about Kay they squirmed away again. As glad as he was to be off the confusing subject of his own unexpected trip, it was frustrating. Not to mention he had no idea what Arthur’s reaction would be if he told him the truth. Before he had been hurt by the prince’s cold words in the stable he’d had faith that the prince was on his side, but now…

“Nothing,” he answered quickly when he realised Arthur was still waiting for an answer.

“Don’t lie to me, Merlin.” Arthur stood up and Merlin turned away quickly, desperate for an extra few seconds to work out what to say.

“I know he hurt you,” Arthur continued. “Tell me why!”

Turning back to face his prince, Merlin’s breath caught in his throat as he realised how close Arthur was standing to him. “It was nothing,” he eventually managed to say. “Just a misunderstanding. I couldn’t do what he wanted.”

 Arthur’s face seemed to tighten as his eyes moved down to Merlin’s neck. “Show me what he did.”

Merlin smiled self-consciously. “No.”

“What did I tell you about denying me, Merlin?” Arthur smiled and as he looked away quickly planted his hand in the middle of Merlin’s chest and pushed him backwards.  With the back of his legs already pressed against the bed, Merlin had little choice but to sit.

 “Now,” stepping away to the table Arthur continued with his orders, “Take off your shirt, or I will cut it off.”

Looking around him, Merlin’s eyes landed on the large sword lying close to him on Arthur’s bed, and for some reason he didn’t doubt Arthur would try. Pulling at his scarf quickly, he began to comply; he was not going to lose a perfectly good piece of clothing to Arthur’s blade. As his tunic came over his head he shivered as a feeling of déjà vu washed over him.  Pushing away the feeling, he watched Arthur pick up a single candle and turn back towards him. Apparently, he was serious about seeing.

When Arthur finally sat down on the bed next to him, Merlin looked away. For some reason he was ashamed of the marks on his shoulder. Would Arthur berate him for not fighting back? Or for not doing what Kay wanted in the first place?

The bruise on his shoulder was smaller than some Arthur had inflicted on him during their training sessions, but it was still tender, and Merlin couldn’t prevent a hiss escaping his teeth as Arthur’s gentle fingers brushed against it.

“He did this?” Arthur’s face was twisted with anger when Merlin finally looked at him. “I will make him pay.”

“For beating a servant?” Although touched by the sentiment, Merlin was incredulous. “I’m no one.”

“You’re my servant,” Arthur snapped. “He had no right.”

If Merlin had any doubt left about his position, the fire in Arthur’s eyes dissolved it. “It happens.” He shrugged gently after a second.

“Not in Camelot.” Arthur was firm.

Although Merlin smiled, he couldn’t think of a single servant who hadn’t suffered in some small way at the hands of their master. Arthur was right, Camelot was better than most places he had heard stories of, but still it happened. Not necessarily vicious attacks, but a small slap when something was done wrong, or a kick to hurry them up.  Even Arthur’s own precious knights were guilty, granted it was generally the lower ranking ones with something to prove, but Merlin had even seen the king lash out at a servant before. “It happens,” he repeated.

“Well it shouldn’t.”

The disgust that registered clear on Arthur’s face made Merlin smile, and not for the first time he realised what a good king Arthur would become. In some ways he reminded the servant of Gwen; he truly cared about his subjects, he just didn’t show it as easily. 

“Arthur…” Merlin paused as the flickering of the candle the prince held drew his attention. The flame was guttering because a pool of wax had gathered in the well, and as Merlin watched, it beaded over the edge and spilled down the shaft towards Arthur’s fingers on the lip of the holder. “Watch out!”

Arthur was confused by the warning and looked at the door that was still closed. “What?”

Merlin pointed at his hand. “The wax.”

Arthur smiled. He hadn’t even noticed as the molten liquid spilled over his fingers and solidified. Since he was a child he had been using hot wax to sign and seal documents, and was well used to the feel of it. A sharp rap from his tutor’s ruler the first time he yelped at a minor wax burn had stopped him flinching again. “Wax doesn’t hurt, Merlin.”

Merlin watched enthralled as Arthur moved the candle from one hand to the other, and flexing his fingers cracked the thin layer of wax that had coated them. “Really?”

Holding out his open hand, Arthur poured a small puddle of wax into the palm of his hand, creating a perfect pebble. “Really,” he assured Merlin as he held his hand out to him. “Touch it.”

Reaching out nervously, Merlin pressed the tip of his finger against the wax. Soft and warm, it moulded to the impression of his finger.

“Ohh,” Merlin couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief.

Arthur just laughed. “See.” Peeling the waxy pebble from his palm the prince held it out to him. “Do you want to try?”

Looking down at the wax coin, Merlin smiled. On one side the impression of Arthur’s hand, on the other his fingerprint. Looking up he nodded eagerly.

Taking Merlin’s hand into his own, Arthur held it tight. “Don’t flinch,” he warned, “or it will hurt.”

Merlin nodded and held his breath as Arthur moved the candle above his hand. His heart raced and he was convinced he wouldn’t be able to keep his hand still if Arthur hadn’t been holding it.

“Do you trust me, Merlin?”

Locking his eyes with Arthur’s, Merlin nodded. “With my life.”

Arthur squeezed his hand a little tighter. “Then go to Eldor for me.”

Merlin’s throat tightened. He looked from Arthur to the candle he still held poised and back again. “I…”

A loud knocking at the door interrupted him and he jumped, only for Arthur to grip tighter still.

“Go away!” the prince shouted, not breaking eye contact.  

“Arthur, open this door or I will come in anyway!” 


	7. Chapter 7

“You know he’s lying don’t you?” Lying on Kay’s large four-poster bed, his feet crossed at his ankles, Geoffrey looked up at his prince standing by the window of their guest quarters. “Arthur,” he clarified.

“Of course.” Kay turned back to look at his servant. “But I can’t work out why.”

“Because he doesn’t want to lose,” Geoffrey stated what he felt was obvious.

Kay shook his head. “There has to be more. Arthur’s not stupid, well not that stupid. If he was planning to cheat he would be better prepared than this. George, the one he claims is his servant, he is good but you can beat him, can’t you?”

Geoffrey laughed. “Easily.”

Kay sighed as he moved across the room. “Then what is the point? If he’s not lying to win, what is he lying about?”

The prince’s questions wiped the smile from Geoffrey’s face. He could think of nothing more important than the win. This competition was the only thing Kay had spoken about since they first met. “I don’t know,” he answered honestly.

“Then we need to find out. Go talk to the staff, you know how people gossip, I want to know everything that is going on. Be nice to them.”

“Yes Kay.”

Slapping at Geoffrey’s boots Kay now sat on the end of the bed. “And remember you’re a servant!”

“Yes, _my lord_.”

Kay laughed. “That’s better.”

“What are you going to do?”

Kay looked to the centre table. “I have some paperwork to complete.”

***

Tapping her foot outside the door, Morgana stood with her arms crossed, waiting. Arthur’s pig-headed determination that his plan would work had played on her mind until she just had to come and talk to him again.

“What?” Arthur’s head appeared in a small gap between the door and it’s frame.  

Narrowing her eyes at his suspicious behaviour, Morgana paused before she continued. “Did you find him?”

Arthur was less than forthcoming with his answer. “Yes”

“Well?”

“What do you want from me Morgana?” Arthur demanded.

“I want you to tell him the truth.” Her voice softened. “I do understand why you’re doing it, but be honest with him.”

Arthur pushed the door closed another inch. “He doesn’t need to know,” he hissed. “Support me in this Morgana or stay away.”

She took a deep breath as his stubbornness returned. “It’s so risky,” she couldn’t help but remind him. “If Kay finds out you will lose by default anyway, and if you lose, no one in this castle will forgive you.”

“Why do you think I’m doing it in the first place?” Arthur demanded, his voice rising. “I will not risk what I don’t have to. Win or lose, Merlin won’t be involved!” His declaration was punctuated by a loud crash from within the room.

Morgana was confused. “Do you have someone with you?”

Looking back to her from glancing over his shoulder, Arthur shook his head. “No one.”

Pushing on the door, Morgana pulled a face at the prince as he fought to hold it closed against her. “Arthur! Who’s there?”

Sighing resignedly, Arthur suddenly stepped back and allowed the door to swing open, revealing to Morgana his companion.

“Merlin?” Morgana’s eyes went wide, surprised to see the half-naked servant standing next to Arthur’s bed. A lit Candle in it’s holder rolled at his feet spilling wax across the floor, no doubt the cause of the noise. Averting her eyes as Merlin moved to grab his shirt, she stared accusingly at Arthur.  “Tell him or I will.”

“Morgana!”

“Tell me what?” Joining the two of them by the door, Merlin looked from one to the other.

Looking at Arthur, Morgana shook her head at his pursed lips and took a deep breath. “The real reason why Arthur wants you to leave.”

Merlin looked at her, confused.  “You know about that?” 

Ignoring the waves of resentment coming from Arthur, Morgana nodded. “It’s because of the competition. It’s not between Arthur and Kay, Merlin,” she began. “It’s between their personal servants. The kings think it is too dangerous for them to compete against each other, so they use a proxy. The best of three rounds is the victor. Arthur doesn’t want you to compete, he wants George.”

“Morgana!” Arthur snapped, cutting her off. “That’s enough!”

Merlin’s eyes already on Arthur, he waited for him to turn towards him before speaking. “Is that true? That’s why you lied to Kay? That’s why you want me to leave? The competition?” Merlin’s voice grew stronger now, as finally he began to understand.

The disgruntled prince threw an angry look once more at Morgana. “Yes,” he admitted.

 “You don’t...” Merlin’s word’s caught on his realisation, and Morgana felt her heart twist a little as she watched his face fall. “You don’t think I would win, do you? You think I’ll let you down?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Merlin.”

“No,” Morgana denied it at the same time as Arthur. The last thing she had wanted to do was upset the boy like this.

“I heard you,” Merlin continued, looking at her now. “You said you wouldn’t forgive him if he lost. None of you believe in me.”

“It’s not that,” Morgana reassured him quickly. “It’s…” She stopped herself from continuing as she caught Arthur’s eye; the look in it told her she had said more than enough for one evening.

“Then why?” Merlin turned to Arthur now. “Why don’t you want me to compete?”  

“All right, it’s true,” Arthur answered suddenly. “George has more of a chance of winning, he is more skilled than you, and I don’t want to lose.”  

“I’ve got better!” Merlin pleaded. “I can avoid most of your strikes now in training.”

Arthur shook his head, his tone now cold. “I’m sorry, that’s not good enough.”

“You won’t even let me try?”

Crossing his arm’s Arthur leant back against the doorframe. “I have already made my choice, Merlin. Do not question me again.”  

Morgana watched as Merlin’s face hardened to mirror Arthur’s.

“Fine, my lord,” he snapped, as he pushed past both of them to step into the corridor. “I won’t.”

Forcing one of his infectious smiles, which didn’t quite reach his eyes this time, Merlin nodded as he turned to her. “My lady,” he just about managed to acknowledge, before making his way down the corridor.

Silently she watched him go until he turned the far corridor. As she turned back she realised Arthur was facing the opposite way. “Why did you lie?”

Arthur looked at her with more contempt than she was sure she had ever seen before. “I didn’t.”

***

Stomping down the corridor Merlin seethed. How could Arthur think so little of him, after all this time?

Okay, so he wasn’t the most athletic person in the castle, but he would have tried his hardest, damn it. He would have done it for Arthur. Didn’t the prince know that?

As he walked, a hundred different spells came to mind. He had destroyed numerous assassins each more determined to kill Arthur than the last, with nothing more than a whisper, but the prince didn’t even trust him in some poxy competition. It was so frustrating. He had more power than all the knights put together, but Arthur would never see.

The further he walked the tighter he felt his chest grow. Arthur would never see him for who he truly was, the magic was too big a part of that, but he thought perhaps he could see him as more than just another servant. 

With his head down and his mind racing, the last thing Merlin was doing was looking where he was going. Blindly rounding the corner he slammed straight into the solid bulk of a figure coming the other way, and stumbled backwards into the shadows.

“You again!” The voice sent a chill down Merlin’s spine. “What are you doing?”

“Sorry, my lord.” Merlin made sure to keep his eyes averted, anxious not to anger him again. “I err, was just running some errands.”

Kay’s eyes narrowed as he took in Merlin.

“Then you can do an errand for me,” he commanded, holding out the scroll he had been carrying and offering it to Merlin. “Take that directly to prince Arthur. You do know where his chambers are, don’t you?”

Merlin nodded wordlessly. Of course he knew were Arthur’s room was, he had been there less than an hour ago, shirtless and in the prince’s hands. Desperately he wanted to tell Kay exactly who he was, instead he bit his lip. “Yes Sire.”

When no further instruction came from Kay, he turned quickly, and made his way back in the direction he had just come from.

Arthur was the last person he wanted to see right now, and the scroll grew heavy in his hand as he neared the prince’s room. Shaking his head he realised he couldn’t do it. The scroll couldn’t be that important anyway, surely it could wait till the morning. Besides, it would make a change for the prince not getting everything he wanted straight away.

Looking behind him to make sure Kay wasn’t watching, he quickly ducked into the shadows at the bottom of the stairs. But as he stood waiting for Kay to leave, curiosity got the better of him, and before he knew it the scroll was open and he eyes were scanning the words. His face twisted as he realised it was about the competition, of course it was. Ever since the visitors arrived everything had been about the competition.

“In accordance with the competition’s rules, the below named will be the official substitute for the named prince. All named Parties hereby agree to abide by all rules set down in the royal charter…”

Merlin stopped reading as the scroll began to name various clauses and regulations. His eyes skipped down to where prince Kay’s name and the royal seal of Limpnee were stamped above the scrawled name of his servant. Geoffrey.

The space below Arthur’s name lay temptingly blank.

“Cromondare, avin theartem.” Merlins’ eyes glowed bright and magic spilled from his lips before he even had time to think about what he was doing.  Smiling, he felt his heart begin to race as inky letters crawled across the page and spelled out his own name.

He would compete and he would win, that would show Arthur.

His name alone wasn’t enough though. With a shaking hand, Merlin grabbed the nearest burning candle from its sconce and quickly poured a small pebble of hot wax onto the paper. Pushing his thumb into the wax, he left an impression, which quickly with another glow of his eyes morphed into the seal of Camelot.

***

Kay stood for a while and watched where the servant had disappeared. He didn’t like the boy, but he knew he was somehow wrapped up in the mystery of Arthur lying. He wondered whether to follow him, but quickly shook the idea away. The day he would go chasing after a servant would be a strange day indeed.

He was halfway back to his own quarters when he heard his name, shouted with an uncouth urgency.

“Prince Kay! Prince Kay!”

Stopping he looked back to find that blasted scruffy servant chasing after him.

“Prince… Kay!” the servant panted as he caught up with him and held out the scroll Kay had handed him what seemed only a few moments ago. “Prince Arthur asked me to bring this back.”

 

Frowning, Kay snatched the scroll and opened it to make sure it was all correct. His eyes widened slightly as he read the name above the royal seal. "You?" He questioned raising his eyes up at Merlin

 

Merlin smiled wildly back at him. "Prince Arthur has had a change of heart." 


	8. Chapter 8

Already up and having made a start on the new day’s orders, Gaius looked towards Merlin’s closed door. He hadn’t heard him return last night, nor had he witnessed his usual routine of crashing his way through their shared chambers, his clothes barely on as he rushed not to be late for waking Arthur this morning. Suddenly worried, he approached the door and pushed it open cautiously.

“Merlin?”

Laying face down on his bed, in the clothes from the night before, Merlin slept on top of his bed sheets.

Smiling, Gaius crossed to him and shook his shoulder gently. As much as he would like to have left the obviously tired boy, he knew there would be more trouble awaiting the servant if he did.

“Shouldn’t you have got up by now?” he asked gently, as a sleepy eye opened and focused on him. “Arthur will be waiting”

“Arthur has a new servant,” Merlin answered with remarkable clarity, as he closed his red-rimmed eyes.  “I am surplus to requirements.”

“Merlin?” Gaius couldn’t help but be worried by the coldness of his voice. “I’m sure that’s not…”

“You should have told me, Gaius.” Merlin sat up as he interrupted his mentor. “You could have warned me.”

Confused, the physician’s worry only increased. “I don’t understand.”

“The competition, Gaius.” Merlin looked contemptibly at the old man. “Do you not trust me to win either? Arthur doesn’t. He tried to replace me.”

Gaius’ old shoulders sank. He was upset by the idea that Merlin could believe he felt that way about him, but deep down he was sure the boy didn’t really mean it. “Of course I trust that you would do your best, Merlin. I’m sure Arthur does too, he probably just didn’t want you hurt.”

“Arthur doesn’t want to lose,” Merlin snapped. “That’s what Arthur wants.” Falling back down he rolled away from Gaius to face the wall.

Realising there was nothing he could say right now that would make any difference, Gaius moved to the door. He would leave him be for now, but he wouldn’t let him wallow forever.

***

Standing in the corridor of Arthur’s quarters, Geoffrey peered cautiously around the corner and watched as George hesitated outside his master’s door. He held a breakfast tray heavily laden with everything he could possibly have found in the kitchen.

Geoffrey had followed, watching him struggle with the tray all the way here, but now he held it for longer than necessary in one hand as the other paused inches from knocking on the door.

Nodding his head, he silently urged George to make his hand connect with the wood. When it finally did and a rap echoed through the hallway, Geoffrey sighed with relief. He had no patience for timid people.

“Enter!” The command from within the room was loud and direct, exactly what Geoffrey would expect from a prince. Turning away he decided to head back to Kay. There was no story to report from here, except perhaps a lazy servant who couldn’t be bothered to pick his master’s favourite foods for breakfast.

Before he had got even two steps away, a loud crash of crockery hitting a solid floor stopped him. Seconds later, a shout so loud that it echoed around him changed his mind about what to report to Kay. 

 “WHERE IS MERLIN?”

***

Sitting up in bed Merlin looked at the door as he slowly rolled up the sleeve of his tunic.

Now that his temper from last night had cooled, Gaius’ words played in his head. It wasn’t as if Arthur was particularly good at being nice, so maybe this was his own ham-fisted way of being nice to him, by keeping him out of the challenge and away from that brute Kay.

Looking down at his now exposed forearms, his stomach rolled over. It was true, he had done it. The wording from Kay’s scroll wrapped round and round his arms in neat circles, tattooed on by magic ink.

Despite his anger last night, he had been thinking clearly. Arthur would get suspicious if he didn’t receive a scroll from Kay, and so littering his arms were the means to help him create a dummy one. Paper the right size, and a glow of his eyes was all that he needed.

“MERLIN!” His name suddenly echoed through the chambers, making him jump.

Getting to his feet and trying to pull down his sleeves at the same time, Merlin achieved neither with any dignity. Getting caught on his sheets he stumbled forward trying to keep his footing, coming to a stop only inches from the door that was suddenly opened with force. 

Looking up he met the unimpressed eyes of the person whose unmistakable voice had prompted his frantic movements.

***

“Merlin!” Arthur repeated as he looked down at his servant. “What do you think you are doing?”

A guilty look flashed across his servant’s face as he stood up straight. “Nothing.”

Ignoring the look, Arthur glanced around him at the small room. He didn’t visit here often but every time he did he was always amazed by the amount of clutter Merlin managed to cram into every corner. Everywhere he looked there were piles of clothes, books, and in amongst Merlin’s belongings were scatterings of his own; pieces of amour that Merlin was obviously due to clean stuck out from here and there. “So this is where you are?”

Merlin fidgeted as Arthur’s eyes returned to him. “Where am I supposed to be?”

Arthur smiled. “I know you can be forgetful sometimes, Merlin, but I thought even you had grasped the simple concept of breakfast being in the morning!” Merlin seemed to flinch against his light-hearted barb, and Arthur felt irritated by his reaction.

“That’s your servant’s job. Not mine.”

“Merlin…” he said, taking a step forward.

Merlin stepped even further away from him. “What do you want?”

Arthur straightened his back. It was a good question. Disappointment had gnawed in his belly the moment he realised Merlin wasn’t coming to him this morning, and he had rushed here without even thinking. “I… want to make sure you’re leaving.”

“I’m not.”

Arthur’s temper snapped as Merlin made his answer as monosyllabic as he possibly could, again.  “Then I don’t expect to see you for the next week. You are not to leave this room, do not come to the competition. Do you understand?”

Arthur waited for a nod of agreement before he turned towards the door. He really didn’t want to leave things like this; he’d come to ask for his servant back, not to banish him altogether, but what other choice did he have?

“Arthur?” Merlin called him back, and as tempted as he was to ignore him, Arthur couldn’t make his feet move forward. Turning back he faced the frustrating servant and raised his eyebrows.

“What are you going to be doing today?”

Arthur knew he should have felt outrage at being questioned by a servant, but he didn’t.  “I have to go find Kay, there are some formalities for the competition that we have to address.”

“No, you can’t!” Merlin replied hastily, taking a step towards him.

This time Arthur felt a touch of indignation. Questioning him was one thing, ordering him was another. “And why not?”

Merlin paused thoughfully for a moment, as if choosing his words carefully. “Shouldn’t you be training George?”

Arthur nodded slowly; the competition was tomorrow, the full moon tonight. He supposed he should at least talk to the guard about what was to come over the following days. “Maybe this afternoon.”

“No!” Merlin was insistent. “Go see George now, do the right thing by him.”

Arthur narrowed his eyes. Merlin was acting strangely but for the life of him he couldn’t work out why. Perhaps he was still upset about the competition.  “Okay,” he agreed cautiously. “I can always see Kay this afternoon.”  

***

Following Arthur out the door once he had left, Merlin moved as quickly as he dared to avoid catching up with the prince. As he moved, his mind raced. If Arthur was already planning to see Kay about the scroll, him appearing with a dummy one would only seem more suspicious, especially as Arthur had warned him to stay away from the other prince. As he paused at the edge of the corridor to give Arthur time to clear the stairs in front of him, a few quick words wiped his arm clean of those binding words that were no longer any good to him. A different plan was already in his mind. All he had to do was keep Arthur away from Kay until it was too late for him to be able to do anything if he did find out.

The second he was in the courtyard and watched Arthur turn one way, he began running in the other. His first step was already complete; with Arthur training George all morning, he had plenty of time to find something to distract the prince with this afternoon.

 In through the kitchen door, he ignored the cries of his name from the kitchen staff who must also have been surprised not to see him this morning, and continued running through the back corridors. He knew they would forgive his rudeness, as they would presume he was on a job for Arthur, one that could not wait. And in a way, they were right.

Skidding to a halt only once he arrived at the lady Morgana’s door, Merlin breathed hard as he began knocking impatiently.  He was relieved when after what seemed like forever Gwen opened the door and smiled at him, the bright sunlight filling the room behind her.

“Where is Morgana?” he demanded, no time for greetings. “I need a favour.”

“What is it, Merlin?” The Lady he needed appeared next to her servant, concern clearly visible on her face.

“Please,” Merlin begged, “I need your help. I have to keep Arthur away from Kay.”

***

Walking into the stables, Arthur saw George immediately. He was looking suspiciously at one of Arthur’s larger horses.

“You won’t be riding him,” Arthur called as he approached.

Jumping, George quickly bowed his head at Arthur. “I didn’t think… Sorry Sire.”

Arthur swallowed his annoyance at the instant subservience. “She is the fastest.” Arthur reached out and patted the horse’s nose fondly. “But you will be faster on a horse you feel confident on.”

George nodded silently.

“I wanted to talk to you about the competition,” Arthur continued. “You know the rules?”

George nodded. “I watched last year,” he confirmed. “I know the…risk.”

Arthur took a breath. That wasn’t specifically what he had wanted to talk about, but it was good to know. For the first time since he had asked George to stand in for Merlin he suddenly realised exactly what he was asking of the guard.

“Do you have a reason to win?” he questioned, only to wish he hadn’t the moment it left his lips. If he did, and he didn’t win, Arthur’s guilt would be doubled.

George’s face lit up. “I have a girl,” he began proudly. “I want to marry her, but her father won’t allow it until I can buy us a house.” He paused and waited for an answer from the prince. When none came, he continued hesitatingly. “So the…prize...”

“It is all yours,” Arthur promised instantly.”I will not go back on my word. I have no interest in gold from this, merely…” Arthur paused. How could he explain all he did want?

Shaking his head, he realised he didn’t need to explain anything; he was the prince. “Grab that,” he snapped and pointed at a large round straw boss standing in the corner. “You ride well enough, but there’s something else we need to practice.”

***

Merlin left Morgana’s room a lot more relaxed than he had arrived at it. She had agreed to everything he had asked, and despite the shock on her face when he had explained what he had done, or most of what he had done, she didn’t question him on it, other to ask if he was sure.

He was. He wanted to take part in the competition more than anything, to wear Arthur’s colours, to make the prince proud. To show just once he wasn’t the useless servant everyone thought he was.

Stepping into the sunshine from the castle, he shielded his eyes. Today was going to be another scorcher. He should go straight back to his room, he knew he should, but he couldn’t help but wonder how the training of George was going. Surely it wouldn’t hurt just to watch for a while?

 Before he even finished the argument with himself, he was already walking towards the training fields. He stopped the moment he could see them, already stripped of their jackets and down to their thin shirts.

Standing sidewards with his back towards Merlin, Arthur held a weapon Merlin had never seen him wield before; an old-fashioned curved bow that stood almost as tall as him.

Raising the bow, Arthur pointed the arrow resting on his hand at the target and drew back on the string.

Merlin watched as Arthur’s back muscles moved and tensed as he pulled back until his shoulder aligned perfectly, and he paused. It was a perfectly still moment and Merlin found himself holding his breath.

Flicking his hand back over his shoulder, Arthur let go of the string and the arrow shot through the air faster than Merlin’s eyes could track.  

The thud it made as it landed in the target was a delight to hear, and so reassuringly solid that without even looking Merlin knew it had hit exactly where Arthur had wanted it to.

Merlin was amazed. It was an impressive show, but he couldn’t help wonder why he had never seen Arthur use this before, always preferring his trusty crossbow while they were out hunting.

Holding out the bow to George now, Arthur became very animated, his hands moving to touch George’s as he explained how to hold the thing correctly.

Too far away to hear what was being said, Merlin considered sneaking closer, but it was too risky he realised sadly.

As George now lifted up the bow and began to pull back on the string, Arthur’s movements continued as he touched George in different places; on his bicep, the side of his head, until finally he rested his hand between George’s shoulder blades.

Merlin couldn’t help but frown now as a jealous feeling overwhelmed his curiosity. He couldn’t watch this anymore. Suddenly it was torturous. It should have been him up there, learning all he would need, having Arthur’s hands touching him, training him.

Turning away he quickly headed back to Gaius. He was sure the old man would have an errand or two to distract him, and he would need it to get through the day.

***

Pulling on his boots as he dressed for dinner, Arthur sat in his favourite chair in the middle of his room. Today had been successful and futile in equal measures.  George had learnt well, but it would take him weeks to master the bow to the same level  he could have done in a day were they using a crossbow. Silently he cursed yet another one of the competition’s rules.

While he thought of the competition he thought of Kay. Arthur hadn’t been able to find him anywhere this afternoon, and only after spending most of it looking for the fellow prince did someone see fit to tell him he was out riding with Morgana again.   

Getting to his feet, he realised it didn’t matter, he could always talk to him now.

***

Standing in the corridor behind the banquet hall, Merlin fidgeted. He had successfully managed to keep Arthur and Kay away from each other all day, but he couldn’t do anything about tonight’s dinner. All he could hope was that they wouldn’t be in the mood for discussing paperwork. He knew Arthur would find out about what he had done eventually, but the longer he could avoid it the better.

Turning with the intention of heading back into the kitchen to wait for updates from Gwen, as she escaped to pick up various courses and dishes, he realised with horror that someone else was in the corridor with him, and there was no way for him to escape their notice.

“You!” Uther addressed him with even more contempt than usual as he strode in confident steps towards Merlin, King James a little behind him. “Don’t you have something you should be doing?”

Merlin nodded eagerly, and pointed behind the two kings. “Yes I…”

“That way!” Uther interrupted and pointed at the large door Merlin had been hiding behind, obviously expecting the servant to be serving at dinner.

Merlin chewed his lip for a second as he desperately search for a way out. Finding none, he was forced to nod his head and turn towards the hall. “Of course, Sire.” 

“My son’s servant,” he heard Uther explain to King James as he stepped into the great hall. “Dumb as stone but loyal enough. Fast too, he even saved Arthur’s life once. Should be more than a challenge for your boy.”

Stepping into the hall, Merlin quickly skirted along the edge and attempted to take his usual place next to Gwen in the line of servants before anyone could see him, only to find George on one side and Geoffrey on the other. However, he needed not have worried as he stood there awkwardly, not quite sure where to go; everyone’s attention was on the scene at the far end of the hall.

“Merlin!” Gwen hissed, nodding towards the scene to draw his attention to it.

Arthur and Kay stood at the far end of the great hall, a scroll held between them.

With fear overwhelming his system, Merlin looked back to the door the kings had followed him through and seriously considered trying to make a quick escape.

“No!” Merlin could hear Arthur’s voice loud and clear, despite the distance between them. “This isn’t right!”

***

“Are you going to change your mind again, Arthur?” Kay snapped accusingly.  “You know there is only so much of this I will tolerate.”

Arthur was barely listening, his eyes focused on the scroll. The lines and curves of his handwriting that made up Merlin’s name burned into his eyes, and the seal, his seal, perfectly formed in wax. It was all wrong. He hadn’t signed that. He wouldn’t.

Having arrived in the hall, the Kings were now as interested in the scene as everyone else.

“What is the problem?” Uther demanded, his voice drawing Arthur’s attention.

Opening his mouth to answer, Arthur found Kay beating him to it.

“Arthur claims he did not sign this,” Kay explained and thrust the scroll out to the king. “The contract for the competition.”

Arthur felt his chest tighten as Uther took the scroll with a gloved hand and studied it for a moment. “Who has had access to this?”

“No one my lord, just myself, my servant, Arthur and… him!”

Kay pointed behind the kings and Arthur turned cold, his stomach rolling over. Of course, Merlin. He should have known. Merlin had written his own name and forged the seal. Suddenly it was obvious, he had underestimated the boy’s will. But didn’t he realise how dangerous that was? The king would hang him for treason if he found out the truth.   

“You boy!” Uther beckoned him forward and held the scroll out. “Have you seen this before?”

Arthur caught Merlin’s eyes as he nodded at the kings.  “Yes Sire. Prince Kay gave it to me last night. I was to give it to Arthur.”

“And did you?”

“Yes!” Arthur stepped forward as he saw Merlin hesitate. “He did. I forgot Father, it was late and I was sleeping. I apologise.”

Uther’s face turned black, and Arthur knew he would pay for showing up his father like this.  

“So it is your seal?” Kay questioned quickly. “And he is your chosen man for the competition?”

Arthur pursed his lips; everything he had planned and it had come to this. “Yes,” he was forced to admit. 

“Well then,” King James smiled, breaking the tension. “If that’s all sorted, let us eat.”

Stepping towards the table, Arthur grabbed the back of Merlin’s shirt and pulled him close as he attempted to slide away. “I will deal with you later!” he growled in the boy’s ear.


	9. Chapter 9

Opening his eyes, Arthur looked around him and saw nothing. It was pitch black, but still the room began to spin and his stomach lurched. Closing his eyes again, he held tightly to the bed beneath him, desperately trying to convince his brain he wasn’t moving. Only when the grip of the false movements released its hold on him, did he relax too.

Breathing deliberately slowly to avoid provoking the spinning again, he wondered what had happened. He was in bed, that much was certain, but he definitely didn’t remember getting here, or getting undressed, however a cold but welcoming draught across his shoulder blades informed him he was.

The last thing he did remember was looking up at that damned, frustrating manservant of his, standing next to him and refilling his goblet. Actually as he came to think about it, that was most of what he could remember about last night; Merlin refilling his cup again and again. Well at least that answered why he didn’t remember much else; Merlin had got him drunk.

It was probably to avoid having to deal with the consequences of his actions, Arthur quickly realised even through his drunken fog. Well if that’s what he thought, Arthur smiled to himself, he could think again. He would deal with him, sooner or if need be later. The thought of the competition quickly wiped the smile off Arthur’s face. What had Merlin done? Was it just possible the clumsy, untrained servant could win? And how was he going to get him out of it if he didn’t?

As all the questions assaulted him, Arthur groaned. His head already hurt and it wasn’t even morning. Rolling onto his back, he fought the instant nausea at his movement and found a more comfortable sleeping position. 

“Merlin,” he sighed, the last thought on his mind as blissful sleep returned. 

***

Merlin’s head shot up as he heard his name, instantly waking from the doze that, despite his best efforts, he had succumbed to as the fire died away. He was sitting in the large fur-covered chair that Arthur always preferred, hidden in the darkness of Arthur’s bedroom

 Staring intently through the darkness, he waited to see if anything further was to come from Arthur, but when the prince’s deep breaths gave way to light snoring and he realised that nothing was, he relaxed back again.

He was more comfortable curled in this chair than anyone would know. Even Arthur. Whenever the prince was drunk enough not to be able to put himself to bed, or injured enough to cause Merlin to worry, which was more often than not, Merlin stayed in his room. Just in case he fell out of bed or something.

Rubbing his cheek unconsciously against the soft fur on the back of the chair, he felt his eyes grow heavy and begin to close again as it soothed him. He was tired, and he would have to be up before daybreak to make sure Arthur didn’t find him here. He was sure the prince would not take kindly to his over-cautious behaviour; In fact he could even take it as an insult, if he was in the mood to.

Merlin sighed gently. Maybe after the competition things would be different, Arthur would see him differently.

He had taken a wander past the large grandstand this afternoon, where several of his fellow servants waved cheerfully as they decorated it in Camelot and Limpnee colours. Banners suspended from high posts above the canopy advertised its location to everyone in the surrounding villages, calling all that could make it to attend. Forcing a smile, Merlin waved back, the whole time his eyes resting on the royal box. That would be where the prince would sit and watch his performance. Would he be proud? Or embarrassed?

Uncertainty about the coming day bubbled in Merlin, and staved off sleep for just a few more minutes. Arthur hadn’t explained the rules or even told him what the three rounds of the competition were to be. His drunken mumbling about horses as he staggered his way through the castle’s corridors was all Merlin had to go on for what tomorrow held. A race? he guessed.

Whatever it may be, he vowed to himself he wouldn’t use his magic to win, no matter how tempting. He had to win or lose by his own merit, or it would mean nothing.   

***

The next time Arthur awoke he found a person thankfully blocking the bright morning sunlight from his sensitive eyes as they leant over him.

“Arthur?” The voice was harsh and demanding and it dissolved every bit of sleep that was left in the prince as he shot upright.. “You are awake then?”

“Father?” he greeted, and forced himself not to wince as the king moved away, letting the sun sting his eyes.

“I don’t believe I have to ask why you are not with your servant preparing for today.”

Arthur’s mind swam as he tried to fight the severe hangover kicking in, and process the fact that his father was in his room. He couldn’t even remember the last time Uther had visited his chambers, and certainly not when he wasn’t severely wounded.

“I…”

Uther held his hand up to stop Arthur, which for once the prince was grateful for, as he had no idea what he was supposed to be saying.

“James visits just once a year. Is it too much to ask you do not humiliate me during this time?”

Arthur watched as his father stepped further away, looking around the room in apparent disgust, his eyes briefly resting on the laid breakfast table. Arthur kept silent, having long learnt to tell when his father had more to say.

“Not only have you spent no time with Kay, but you argue with him when you do.”

Arthur’s mind instantly jumped to the scene in the stables. He really hoped his father hadn’t heard about that.

 “From what I have heard, you have spent no time training your servant, and you are not with him now. Kay rose at daybreak and has been at the stable since. You I presume are suffering the effect from last night’s… over indulgence.” Arthur felt a non hangover-induced pain in his chest as he recognised disappointment in his father’s face. “I expected better of you this year,” Uther continued. “I don’t expect you to let me down again. I don’t expect you to lose.”

“I’m sorry Sire.” Arthur finally saw his opportunity to speak, and knew exactly what his father wanted to hear.

Uther’s gloved hand tightened just slightly. “Understand me Arthur, I won’t stand to be embarrassed again!”

***

Standing in the ever-warming courtyard, Merlin’s hands moved automatically fastening a saddle on to one of Arthur’s horses. George stood nearby, faithfully repeating everything Arthur had told him about the competition yesterday, but Merlin was barely listening. His was thinking of the way the king had ordered him here from Arthur’s chambers - before he’d even had a chance to wake the prince.

“Merlin!” George called eventually. “Are you even listening?”

“I’m sorry George.” Merlin touched his friend’s shoulder as he realised he hadn’t been. He honestly felt bad. The guard didn’t need to be here, having been absolved of all his duties to do with the competition, and yet Merlin had found him here waiting to help when he arrived. “I am, it’s just…”

“You’re worried. I understand, I was too.” George misread Merlin's hesitance. “To lose would be…” He shook his head. “You won’t lose.”

Merlin patted the horse. “I won’t,” he agreed, touched by George’s confidence. Reaching to tighten the last strap, Merlin noticed a shadow cross his hand.

Looking up to find the cause of the shadow, Merlin found his rival standing close.

“Merlin,” Geoffrey greeted him with a smile. “May I speak with you?”

Cautious but intrigued, Merlin nodded and followed the servant as he moved a few steps away in an attempt at privacy. Although Merlin had seen Kay’s servant at various times over the last few days, even struggled in his grip, this was the first time he had spoken to him.

“I wanted to apologise to you,” Geoffrey spoke quietly now. “Kay, his behaviour the other day it was…I mean he shouldn’t have... It was…”

 “It’s ok,” Merlin interrupted Geoffrey’s struggling. “He’s not your responsibility.”

Geoffrey shrugged. “But he is. You must feel the same?”

Merlin nodded; he knew exactly what Geoffrey meant, he did. How often had he felt compelled to apologise to other servants for Arthur’s brusque behaviour? However, this was the first time anyone had apologised to him, and he felt himself warming to the fellow servant because of it.

“He’s not all bad, honestly,” Geoffrey continued. “He just has this temper.” 

Merlin smiled. “A prince’s prerogative, no?”

Geoffrey laughed until the sound of a horn echoed through the courtyard.

“For us?” Merlin questioned, and a cold shiver ran through him as Geoffrey nodded. There was no backing out now.  “Then I guess we best not keep them waiting.” He turned away.

“Merlin?” Geoffrey called him back, and as Merlin turned he noticed Geoffrey held his hand out. “May the best man win?”  

***

Sitting in the royal box with Morgana on one side, his father, James and Kay on the other, Arthur frowned at the open space in front of him. The sun was bright and he wished he had something with which to shield his eyes, as his head still pounded from this morning, but his father would accept no excuse for him not being here. If it were any other day he might be relaxed and ready to enjoy the day’s event. It wasn’t often that he actually got to sit and watch a competition, is was more usual that he was competing in them. Today he was more nervous than if he had been. 

Tapping his fingers on his own lap Arthur betrayed his unease. He hadn’t spoken to Merlin today; hadn’t even seen him, and had no idea if the servant even knew what he was supposed to be doing.

“Father,” he called as he got to his feet. “I’m just going…”

“Sit down Arthur.” The king growled his response without even looking at his son.  

“He’ll be fine,” Morgana whispered, leaning close as he reluctantly obeyed. “Trust him.”

Arthur just looked at her; he wanted to, he really did. Did she not realise that?

The blasted horn that had almost split his skull the first time made him jump as it sounded again, announcing the arrival of the competitors on to the field.

Sitting up straighter in his chair, Arthur’s attention sharpened.  As the previous victor, the house of Limpnee was first on to be introduced.

With his head held high, Geoffrey rode his horse with an air of confidence into the arena, and arrived in perfect formation next to the boy carrying the Limpnee banner. Smartly dressed with strategically placed armour here and there, he looked every bit ready for the challenge ahead.  Only once he had bowed his head first to Kay and James, and then Uther, was a second horn blown.

Now was the time for Camelot’s representative. Holding his breath, Arthur waited.

***

Sitting at the edge of the field, Merlin’s breath caught in his throat as he heard his signal. Cautiously he encouraged the powerful horse below him forward with the gentlest of commands. ”Sit up right. Don’t look as if you’re trying to control the horse. Stop next to your flag carrier. Bow to the kings.” In his head Merlin could hear each of George’s instructions as he tried his best to carry them out.

Only once he was done did he realise how many eyes were on him. Unused to being the centre of attention, he felt a nervous knot form in his stomach. How Arthur got a rush out of this, he would never know.

Craving comfort, he longed to look to the chair he had identified last night, but he fought against the urge and searched the crowd instead.

The first familiar face he found was etched with confusion and worry. He hadn’t found the right opportunity to confide in Gaius over his plan, and now as the physician looked at him, Merlin felt guilty. Shooting a reassuring smile at his mentor was all he could do for now. No doubt the old man would have a few words for him later.

In the corner of his eye he saw movement in the royal box, and snapping his attention there he watched as both kings stood up and the crowd hushed.  

“Today we, the people of Camelot, give welcome to the reigning victors of our…” Uther paused, “little competition. King James and Prince Kay of Limpnee.” Stepping back he began to clap, and the crowd followed.

With what looked like a genuine smile on his face, James stepped forward and held his hands up modestly to stop the applause. “It seems barely conceivable that it has been a year since our previous prince’s challenge, but here we are again.” He turned to Uther. “And we give thanks for your good health and your endless generosity that has enabled us to be so. Whatever the outcome of the coming days, we have, as always, enjoyed our time in Camelot, and are grateful for our ever strengthening relationship.”

Now Merlin’s attention did begin to wander. King James seemed like a person worthy of his title, but Merlin was too tense to stomach listening to many more banal pleasantries, and seeing as he was a king there was every chance they could go on for a while.

Finally giving in to that nagging need, he looked to Arthur and found the prince hiding a wide yawn behind his hand. Merlin laughed to himself. The prince hated speeches more than anyone he knew. His amusement ceased the moment Arthur returned his gaze however. So intense was it that Merlin though just for a second that he might burst into flames in front of everybody.

A minute, an hour, Merlin wasn’t sure how long he was trapped in Arthur’s mesmerizing stare, which for the first time in what felt like forever he couldn’t decipher, but he knew anyone else would be frightened by it. He felt something completely different.

Swallowing hard, and using every bit of strength he had, Merlin finally pulled his attention away and realised, to his surprise, that Uther was now addressing him and Geoffrey.

“A flag of each of our houses has been placed 5 miles away, directly to the north west.”

Merlin’s eyes went wide before he could stop them. What had he missed? And which way was north west? Frantically his mind spun to try and provide him with the answer. Looking desperately he once more caught Arthur’s eyes and found the prince, seemingly having read his mind, discreetly pointing over his left shoulder. Smiling, he tried to convey his thanks to the prince and felt his heart jump as Arthur nodded gently. If he had to guess, he would have said it was the prince’s way of saying good luck.

Uther was continuing, oblivious to Merlin and his son’s exchange. “The first to return with theirs in hand will be named the winner.” Turning, he looked at the prince to his far right. “Kay, as the champion, would you like to start the race?”

Kay bowed his head at Uther. “As pleased by your offer as I am, Sire, I must decline. I fear there is someone far more encouraging of a good performance from our competitors than I.” He leant forward and with an open hand pointed. “The Lady Morgana” 

Uther seemed more than pleased by his words, and held his hand out to his ward. “If you would, Morgana?”

Apparently flustered by the request, Morgana blushed as she got to her feet. “Oh... I…of course.” With a sideways glance at Arthur, she pulled the silk scarf from around her shoulders and held it out over the edge of the box. “Gentleman, if you are ready?”

Turning his horse in the direction Arthur had pointed, Merlin took a deep breath and tried to forget everything but the challenge ahead. This was it.

“May you both return safely,” Morgana wished, “and may both your princes be proud.” With that, she let go of the scarf.

Merlin’s heart raced as he waited for the silk to touch the dust, and before he even realised it had he was racing forward, Geoffrey at his side, the roaring crowd quickly disappearing behind him.

***

Only once the horses were out of sight did Arthur relax back in his chair. Closing his eyes, he felt the pain in his head ease just a little. Merlin had looked, well, just like Merlin, no armour, no weapon, and no clue of which direction to go. He had to smile, despite himself. Merlin really was the worst servant he had ever had. Nonetheless, he could not deny, even to himself, that the thought of losing him scared him.

“Sire?” A sudden gentle voice at his side forced his eyes open.

“Gaius,” he greeted pleasantly. “Can I help you?” He always tried to make time for the physician, whom he could not remember a time without.

“Merlin asked that I bring you this, sire.” Gaius held out a small cup of a cloudy looking liquid. “He thought you might need it this morning.”

Arthur smiled and took the cup. Gaius had prescribed him this before, and he knew it would take away the worst of the headache and calm the acid in his stomach from last night’s drinking.

“Drink it quickly,” Gaius advised as Arthur looked closer at the liquid. 

Nodding, and knowing better than to argue, Arthur drained the cup in one swallow, and almost spat it back out again. “Eugh!” he gasped, and wiped at his tongue with the cuff of his sleeve. “Why do all your potions have to taste so bad?”

Gaius chuckled. “That’s what makes them work, sire.”

***

“Arghh!” The cry escaped his throat as his shoulder hit the ground hard and the shock vibrated through his body.

Rolling in the dirt, he fought not to yell out again as the horse he had just fallen from stumbled over his body, kicking bruises into his flesh that would hurt for weeks.

Tangled in the reins now dangling around the horse’s legs, the hapless rider was dragged across the rough ground, his head bouncing against the forest floor as sharp rocks ripped at his clothes and skin.

After all he had been through, was this his fate? To be kicked to death by his horse?

Just as he began to believe it would never end, it did; somehow the spooked animal freed itself from him and quickly disappeared into the forest.

Lying perfectly still, a ragged breath escaped his body and he groaned at the effort. He would rest for just a while he promised, and closed his eyes.

That rest was interrupted only a moment later by the sound of a neighing horse, and as he felt hooves pound the ground next to him he curled into the tightest ball possible, desperate to avoid another trampling.


	10. Chapter 10

Sliding from the back of his horse the moment it stopped, he fell to his knees and reached for the cowering figure on the dusty forest floor. “Hey, hey are you okay?”

 

The servant could not hide his surprise as he opened his eyes to a friendly face. “Merlin?”

 

“What happened?” Merlin questioned gently, his hands moving to support Geoffrey as he tried to sit up. 

 

“My mare.” Geoffrey broke off to wince as he pointed to the path he had been taking. “The ground is so dry I think she stumbled, her legs tangled.” He shook his head. “I don’t know, it was too fast.”

 

Merlin nodded. He had brought his horse down from full speed the moment they hit the sun-scorched path for fear of the same thing. The soft mud that normally covered this area had been baked by the last few weeks of hot weather and was now as hard stone. Not to mention he knew that even this hot-blooded animal would never be able to keep to a full gallop for ten miles.

 

“Do you think you can stand?” he asked after a moment of weighing up their options. “I can put you on my horse; take you back to the castle if you want.” His eyes skimmed across Geoffrey’s torn clothing. The boy was a mess, but most of it seemed superficial. How many times had he washed blood from Arthur’s clothing only to be unable to find the wound that had caused it the next day? “I can’t see anything too bad,” he continued reassuringly. “But Gaius will look after you, I’m sure he…” Merlin paused as Geoffrey’s hand landed on his arm.

 

“Why are you doing this?” Geoffrey asked, his eyes narrowing as he starred at Merlin.

 

“I...” Merlin simply shook his head, confused.  

 

 “We are in a competition,” Geoffrey reminded him, “and I have no horse. Your victory is assured. Why would you want to go back now? Why did you even stop?”

 

All thought of the competition had disappeared from Merlin the moment he had seen Geoffrey lying on the ground. It hadn’t occurred to him not to stop. “You’re hurt,” he stated what seemed like the obvious. “I’m sure the princes will understand if we go back. We can always try again another day.”

 

Geoffrey began a laugh, which quickly turned into a hiss as he pushed himself to his feet and found one of his ankles too bruised to bear much weight. Reluctantly he rested on Merlin’s offered arm. “There is no other day. If you want to go back now and hand me your victory,” he jutted his chin towards Merlin’s horse, “by all means go, but I will not return without our flag.”

 

Merlin frowned gently. As adamant as Geoffrey was to continue, despite the fact he couldn’t walk a step unaided, Merlin was equally determined he wasn’t going to leave him alone. He could think of only one compromise.

*** 

Sitting higher than usual on his horse, Merlin rode as fast as he dared through the forest. Even through the thick canopy of the trees he could feel the sun warming his back. Today was another beautiful day, and just for a second he allowed himself to imagine he wasn’t racing to win a prize. He wasn’t fighting to earn Arthur’s respect. He was riding for the pure enjoyment of it, to feel a breeze on his face and escape the oppressive regime of the castle. The hands clinging tightly to his hips weren’t that of an injured foe he couldn’t leave behind, but of someone else entirely. The only person in fact he ever craved to spend time with…

 

“Over there!” Geoffrey’s excited cry pulled Merlin instantly back into reality, and he slowed the horse to look where the man sharing his steed was pointing.

 

Pinned at each corner to the trunk of a thick oak tree, hung a single flag. With the colours of Camelot painted so brightly, he was surprised they hadn’t seen it earlier. Merlin couldn’t deny the slight thrill he felt upon seeing it. Pulling the horse to an instant stop, he dismounted as quickly as possible and left Geoffrey seated.

 

As he circled the tree Merlin was confused “There’s only this one!” he called as he stepped back in front of the flag.

 

“Only one of us is supposed to be here,” Geoffrey answered. “There only needs to be one.”

 

“But what about your…” But as Merlin reached for the flag, his half-finished question was answered. As he freed one corner he realised the thick fabric was painted on both sides, Limpnee’s colours decorating the back. Realisation dawned quickly; the race wasn’t truly about who would return first with the flag, it was the first to get to it. No wonder Geoffrey hadn’t worried about tiring his horse from too long a sprint, he was just trying to arrive first. Kay had obviously briefed him of the true nature of the race.  Whoever arrived second would find there was no flag for them to pick up, and have to return empty handed.

 

“Merlin!”

 

As he struggled to unpin the fabric, Merlin ignored Geoffrey’s hushed call.

 

“Merlin!” The hiss came again, and a rustle of leaves accompanied it.

 

Merlin rolled his eyes. Apparently the servant didn’t like to be ignored, and was edging closer.  “Hold on, it’s almost…” Spinning around as the fabric finally came free Merlin waved the flag out in front of him. “I have…” His proud announcement died in his throat as his eyes focused on the creature in front of him that most definitely wasn’t Arthur’s horse.

 

 At first, all he could see was fur, lots of black fur. Then eyes, big and golden and focused on him as if he were the only thing in the world.

 

“Nice wolfie,” he whispered as the animal took a step forward and showed him sharp teeth with a snarl. “Nice, giant, scary, wolfie.”

 

The wild animal paid no heed to Merlin’s tones as it stepped forward again, emitting a deeper snarl that was less of a warning this time. The animal was hungry, and Merlin knew he looked like lunch.

 

Stepping back, he scanned the forest for an escape, and his horse. He found only one of them as his back hit the tree behind him. Knowing he had no time to lose, Merlin screwed up the large flag he still held as small as possible, stuffed it under his shirt and turned his back on the giant wolf.

 

The oak tree was old and gnarly, and Merlin’s hands quickly found the purchase they needed to pull him from the ground. A tree like this was easy for Merlin, he had been climbing trees back in Eldor since he could walk, at first for adventure, later for solitude, and eventually from necessity.

 

However it had never been to escape a wolf before, and as the now frenzied animal jumped for him and he felt hot breath around his ankles, he realised it required him to be a lot quicker.

 

Pulling his foot just out of reach of the snapping jaws, Merlin took a breath as he searched for the next handhold. He grasped at a few twiggy branches but there were none that could support his weight. Pre-occupied with finding somewhere to go, Merlin didn’t notice as the wolf took a few steps back before jumping up after him again.

 

Razor sharp claws, reaching higher than before, latched onto Merlin’s left leg, forcing a howl from the surprised boy and almost pulling him from the tree.  Merlin’s fingertips dug into the bark of the tree as he desperately pulled himself higher. The loosely embedded claws dragged scratches down the length of his calf muscle as he did. Only after what seemed like an eternity, he freed himself from the grip of the wolf with a final kick of his foot.

 

Once free he climbed even quicker, ignoring the pain every time he used his injured leg, and didn’t stop until he was higher among the thicker branches and found one he could rest comfortably on.

 

Breathlessly he pulled his blue necktie from his throat and wrapped it tightly around his bleeding leg. The last thing he needed was for the animal below to get a taste for him. As it was, he could still see the wolf, pacing back and forth below, apparently not willing to give up on its injured prey. However as he scanned the forest floor Merlin was more concerned with what he couldn’t see, than what he could.

 

Where was Geoffrey?

***

 

Arthur fidgeted in his seat and leant forward once more. It had been too long. The race should have been done by now, but there was still no sign of the riders. The lookouts posted down the path showed no sign of anything, other than casual boredom.

 

Slamming himself back in the chair, he looked around him. Morgana took occasional sips from a goblet and chatted easily to Gwen at her side. His father was deep in conversation with James. Only Kay was silent; relaxed with his feet crossed at the ankles up on the front of the booth, the prince leant back with his hands behind his head.

 

Just the sight of him looking so comfortable irritated Arthur. How could he be so calm? Did he just not care? Or was he that confident in his man? Arthur felt a tinge of guilt for doubting Merlin. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust him to try his best, just that the price of losing was unthinkable. Arthur felt his stomach roll over again for the first time since he had taken Gaius’ potion, but this time it was nothing to do with his hangover.

 

Arthur only felt worse when Kay rolled his head to look at him, and a confident smile crawled onto his face. The smile made the hairs on the back of Arthur’s neck stand up. As irrational as he knew it was, the smile felt like a threat, and Arthur could think of nothing better than wiping it from Kay’s face. Standing up with a loud scrape of his chair, Arthur took a step towards the other prince.

 

“A horse!” a distant call from a far guard stopped Arthur in his tracks. Quiet at first, the announcement grew louder as it passed along the line of lookouts.

 

“A horse approaches sire,” a servant brought the news to the royal box only moments later.

 

“Do you know whose?” Uther questioned calmly, and Arthur spun just in time to see the servant shake his head.  

***

 

Digging his injured heel in the flanks of the horse, Geoffrey winced but encouraged the animal forward. The wolf had appeared from no-where, and was on top of Merlin before he had the chance to do anything but whisper his ignored warning. Knowing it was unlikely the wolf was stalking them unaccompanied, he had made a quick escape before the rest of the pack decided he would make a good second course.  

 

Sitting back he began to slow the animal as the noises of the attack faded. Turning slowly he wondered whether to go back and find out what was happening.

As it was there would be enough questions he couldn’t answer when he arrived back on Arthur’s horse, with no Merlin and no flag.

 

The flag! Geoffrey’s eyes lit up; if something had happened to Merlin it would probably still be there. Kicking the horse again he started back, almost able to hear Kay’s voice ordering him. If there were a chance for him to win Kay would never forgive him for not taking it.

 

Re-approaching the clearing, he was surprised not to see any sign of the rest of the pack he had assumed would arrive; just the lone wolf sitting at the bottom of the flag tree. Maybe he had been wrong and the wolf was hunting alone. The summer drought was causing more and more animals to search elsewhere for their next meal as their usual prey population shrank each day water remained scarce.

 

Stopping as a sharp whistle caught his attention, Geoffrey looked around but failed to see anything in the thick brush. The whistle came again and looking up he was amazed to see Merlin perched on the branch directly above the wolf. Raising his hand, he acknowledged the frantically waving boy and hoped that he was far enough away not to see the disappointed look on his face.

 

Looking from Merlin back down to the wolf, Geoffrey really hoped the boy had a plan.

 ***

 

Arthur sighed. This was intolerable. Sure enough a horse had approached, but it belonged to Kay’s manservant and it held no rider. What the hell had happened?

 

Standing in the middle of the arena, he couldn’t stop himself looking down the path for some clue as to an answer.

 

“Something must have happened,” Kay snapped at his side, and for once Arthur nodded in total agreement.

 

 “We should go find out,” he suggested, and turned to point at a servant. “Get me a horse.”

 

“No!” Uther’s loud voice froze the servant’s steps. “The competition stands, you know the rules. Neither of you are to interfere.”

 

Although his father addressed them both, Arthur felt it as if it were a barb at him.

“But…” he began as he turned to argue, but paused when he saw his father’s narrowed eyes, commanding him not to question the order. “They could be hurt.”

 

Disapproval flooded into his fathers face as he dared to finish the sentence. “Arthur I…”

 

“A horse!” Fortunately, the shout from the lookouts stopped the king from continuing.

 

Instantly forgetting his father, Arthur spun on the spot and strained his eyes to look as far down the path as possible. Sure enough, on the horizon something approached.

 

***

 

Merlin felt a nervousness in his stomach as the towers of Camelot grew in his vision. He could already hear the announcement of their arrival called from one lookout post to the next, travelling down the path faster than them.

 

However, he was grateful for the distracting emotion; it took his mind off the uncomfortable position he was in. Dropping from his safe branch in the tree to the back of the horse, while the wolf was distracted by the smell of his blooded necktie that he had thrown as far as he could, was not the best way to mount a horse.

 

Geoffrey’s aggressive riding through the forest hadn’t exactly given him time to adjust either. Not that he could complain, for a moment there he had thought his competitor wasn’t going to come back for him.

 

“Thank you for coming back,” Merlin spoke as he leant forward, suddenly realising he hadn’t said it and wondering if that was why the man had been silent the entire ride.

 

Geoffrey seemed uncomfortable and shifted his weight on the horse a little. “Do you have the flag?” he questioned.

 

Merlin didn’t even need to feel below his shirt – the bulky material was heavy and gave him a strange shape – but he did anyway and nodded as his hands touched the thick fabric. “I do.”

 

If he wasn’t mistaken Merlin was sure he saw Geoffrey’s shoulder sag just a little. “Then the victory will be yours. Congratulations. I am sure your prince will be proud.”

 

Despite the fact that the mere thought of making Arthur proud made Merlin almost glow with excitement, Merlin felt bad. “We are on the same horse; they will have to call it a draw.”

 

Geoffrey’s head shot up and he even looked over his shoulder to stare at Merlin for a second. “Kay won’t like that.”

 

Merlin was silent for a moment. “Neither will Arthur.”

 

Their conversation could go no further as now they were within in sight of the crowd, the shouting and clapping celebrating their return was almost deafening, but as Geoffrey guided the horse into the middle of the arena Merlin was amazed to see the princes and kings already on the field. Kay held tightly to the reins of Geoffrey’s riderless horse. Arthur stood close to his father and James. Reading the situation quickly, Merlin could tell whatever conversation his prince and the kings where having was not a comfortable one.

 

“Geoffrey was first!” Kay’s voice was the first to break through the general rumble of the crowd. “I win!”

 

“On my horse!” Arthur wasn’t slow in challenging the declaration. “Merlin wins!”

 

“Geoffrey is in front.”

 

Merlin tuned out the princes as they began to squabble and slid from the back of the horse. Looking around, he waved Gaius forward when he felt Geoffrey stumble as he dismounted too.

***

 

Arthur paused in his argument as he noticed Gaius fussing over Kay’s servant, who was now sitting on the ground. As he looked he finally noticed the dishevelled and out of shape appearance of both servants.  “Your man is injured,” Arthur pointed out to Kay, his voice lowering from argumentative tone but still unable to resist a taunt. “He does not look like a winner.”

 

Kay’s head snapped around and seeing what Arthur had, his lips thinned. “What happened?” he demanded, stomping across the distance between them, and kneeling next to Geoffrey.

 

Merlin stood up straight and met Arthur’s eyes as if he had asked the question. “He fell from his horse.”

 

“How severe are his injuries?” James, having followed his son, showed more concern than the prince did and Arthur was surprised by it.

 

“He will be sore for days, but most of the injuries are external, Sire,” Gaius explained as he looked up. “His ankle however is severely swollen. Although it does not appear to be broken, he shouldn’t walk on it for a day at least.”

 

“Would he have been able to walk to the castle?” Arthur demanded, jumping on the information as an idea occurred.

 

Gaius shook his head. “I doubt it, certainly not with any speed.”

 

“Then it is obvious,” Arthur turned to the kings. “Geoffrey would still be out there if not for Merlin, therefore he cannot be named the winner. The round should be mine!”

 

“That’s not true!” Kay snapped, jumping to his feet. “It’s just what your physician says. Maybe he should be concerning himself more with the fact that your man is dripping blood everywhere, rather than speculating what mine could or couldn’t do.”

 

Feeling ice in his stomach as he immediately switched his gaze to Merlin, Arthur too saw how one of his trouser legs appeared wet, and the ankle below it sickeningly red.  

 

“Merlin?” he heard Gaius’ question, but couldn’t move his eyes.

 

“It’s nothing important,” Merlin promised, shuffling his feet, but whether from awkwardness or to prove his point, Arthur wasn’t sure. “Just a scratch.”

 

Sharing a look with Gaius, Arthur was pleased to see the old man was no more convinced by Merlin’s words than he was. As James stepped forward however he was forced to hold any questions he had until later.

 

“A day,” he announced. “I propose we give them a day to rest before we continue the second round. For both injuries,” he added as his son stepped forward, obviously unhappy.  

 

Arthur was amazed to see his father nod as he looked at both the servants, but he couldn’t deny the relief he felt. “That is acceptable.”

 

A day, Arthur’s mind spun; that was exactly what he needed. Time to actually train Merlin. It couldn’t have worked out better.

 

“But who won?”

***

 

Merlin felt the tension suddenly rise again as Kay obstinately returned to the only thing that mattered to him. Looking to Uther he took a deep breath. “What about a draw?” he suggested.

 

Uther simply looked away from him as if he hadn’t spoken. Merlin couldn’t help but suspect that would it not be such an embarrassment there would have been a couple of guards dragging him away by now for daring to address the king.

 

“Who has the flag?” James suddenly asked, breaking the silence and the apparent deadlock between the princes, neither of whom were willing to accept defeat.

 

Merlin swallowed hard. He had almost forgotten about that. Reaching beneath his shirt once more, he aimed an apologetic look at Geoffrey. He could not help but feel bad for the other servant. He knew this would be the defining answer.

 

“So neither of them!” Kay announced impatiently, jumping to a conclusion and turning his back to Merlin just as his pulled the flag out from under his shirt.

 

The crowd that Merlin had almost forgotten about erupted in an enormous cheer, and Kay spun back round, his face now dropping.  

 

“You did it Merlin!” “Congratulations!” “Well done!”

 

As much as he appreciated the comments from those closest to him, Merlin only cared about one person’s reaction. Seeking out Arthur, he felt a shiver run down his spine as he found the prince looking directly at him. Slowly his blank face broke into a smile that went all the way to his eyes, and he took a step towards Merlin.

 

Uther however had other ideas and Merlin watched as he grabbed his son’s arm, turning him around to face the crowd.   

 

 “The first round,” James shouted to be heard as he stepped up next to Uther, “is awarded to your very own prince of Camelot, Arthur!”

 

The crowd was on its feet now, stamping and clapping with as much gusto as if it were them that had just won.

 

Merlin shrank back a little now as people began to move around him. The victory was Arthur’s to enjoy, the fact that the prince was so obviously pleased was enough for him.

 

Groaning as he was helped to his feet by some of his friends, Geoffrey drew Merlin’s attention.

 

“I’m sorry,” Merlin whispered towards him, too late for him to see.

 

“I’m not going to ask how…” Gaius began as he stepped up next to Merlin and then forwards to follow Geoffrey, “but well done Merlin!”

 

Merlin smiled half-heartedly, feeling suddenly unsure of himself.

 

Looking around he searched for where he should be; the kings and princes still stood at the front of the field, shaking hands and addressing the crowd. His place was obviously not there.

 

Taking a step away, he felt his leg twinge a little as he used it for the first time and he wondered if he should follow Gaius, but he was reluctant to take anything else away from Geoffrey.  It could not be that bad, he reasoned, he would look at it later.

 

Finally, as he saw a boy approaching and reach for the reins of his horse, he found something to do. Shaking his head quickly he grabbed them instead and headed towards the stables.

 

The stables were empty and silent when he arrived, everyone still at the showground he guessed.

 

Geoffrey’s homing-horse stood tied to a near post but he ignored it for now, and she ignored him as he moved forward to a private stable. Arthur liked his horses – as with everything he owned – looked after well, just not by him.

 

Merlin smiled a little as he thought of the prince and began slowly, methodically un-tacking the horse.

 

The solitude of the cool stables quickly worked its magic on Merlin and he found himself more relaxed than he had been in days. Reaching out he began to stroke the horse’s neck gently.

 

“Shh,” he soothed as the horse shied a little and took a step back. 

 

Confused, Merlin went to follow when a heavy hand landed on his shoulder. As he was spun around, Merlin didn’t even have a chance to work out what was happening, when his injured leg tangled with his other and sent him tumbling backwards to the floor.

 

Fighting to catch his breath and calm his pounding heart, Merlin looked up. His assailant quickly moved over him and planting one foot either side of his hips crouched down, effectively pinning Merlin to the straw-covered floor.

 

Locking eyes with the man, Merlin felt his heart hammer in his chest even harder than before.

 


	11. Chapter 11

In the cool shadows of the stables Arthur starred down into the wide eyes of his servant, and his initial playfulness disappeared. There was something dark in the boy’s eyes, which made it hard to remember even his own name, never mind everything he had been about to say. Swallowing hard he willed himself to focus. A feat not helped by the sound of Merlin’s raged breaths that seemed to fill his head, and make his blood pump fast than he knew it should. 

 

 Using every shred of willpower he owned he forced a single word past his lips. “Merlin.”

 

“Sire?”

 

Merlin’s breathless response destroyed Arthur’s composure completely, and he was once again frozen. Unable to act how he wanted, unwilling to act any other way. The silence that surrounded them, only broken by the occasional whinny of a horse, was so thick; Arthur couldn’t help but wonder if time had actually stopped.  

 

“Are you angry?” Merlin questioned, after what could have been a moment or could have been a year. Its tentative tone forced Arthur back to the real world, and the conclusion that his silence was scaring the boy. Selfishly he took another moment of it to consider the question. Was he angry? Was that why he had lied to his father at the first opportunity to get away from him and follow Merlin from the field? Was it anger that made him stand in the doorway watching Merlin tend to the horse for as long as he could stand before moving towards him?

 

He should be angry, he knew that, and he probably would be, once the ramifications of the boy’s recklessness set in. Yet for some reason Arthur’s brain, would not allow him to focus on that very realistic danger Merlin had imposed on him.

 

Slowly an un-restrained grin spread across his face, and he punched gently at his servant’s shoulder. “You won, Merlin! You won!”

 

Arthur’s jubilation doubled as after a second a wide grin spit across Merlin’s face too.

 

“I did!” he admitted and Arthur watched as the worry in his face melted away. “I did.”

 

 Forcing himself to his feet quickly before he lost the compulsion to do so, Arthur gave his hands to Merlin’s and pulled his servant up with him.  “You will be the toast of Camelot tonight!”

 

“ _You_ will be the toast of Camelot tonight,” Merlin corrected, as he stood.

 

Arthur nodded, it was true, it would not matter to the court that Arthur had spent most of the race nursing a hangover, it would be his name to claim victory, and Merlin’s to be forgotten. In previous years that had never even occurred to him as being a problem, this year it was different. This year he it irritated him, and he idly wonder what his father would do, if he were to invite Merlin to sit down with him at the feast tonight, taking the glory for himself.

 

The question was almost on his lips when he realised Merlin happy grin had slide from natural to false in those few second of movements. Suspicion nagged at him as he realised the boy still held tight to his hands. Suddenly he remembered the way Merlin fell to the ground in the first place, initially he had presumed it was just his clumsy nature, but now a realisation hit Arthur. “You were hurt!”  

 

Arthur saw Merlin eyes widened briefly in panic at the accusation, before he spun away from him. “I’m fine.” he lied his back turned. “but I...just...I have to finish with the horses.”

 

Arthur shook his head in disbelief, now was not the time for Merlin to suddenly become the model servant, he had always teased him about not being.

 

Reaching out, Arthur grabbed his shoulder.  “No someone else can do all that. I want...”

 

 Merlin ignored him, shaking off his touch, and attempting to carry on with his duties. “Hennery will go mad if he see’s I’ve left them only half un-tacked ...”

 

“Merlin!” Arthur fought to keep his temper. Why did he have to have the only servant in the world, that didn’t know how to just say, yes Sire! “Either stop now, or I will I will tell my father exactly who signed that document.”

 

The threat was heavy than Arthur had intended, and he realised that anger which Merlin had accused him of earlier, wasn’t as locked down as he thought. He didn’t have time to address it now though, as the demand had worked. Merlin halted his movements, with a deflated slump to his shoulders.

 

“That’s...” Arthur’s reprimand was interrupted before it even began. 

 

“WHERE IS HE?”

 

Glaring over his shoulder Arthur was amazed to find the head groom’s booming question had permeated the stable walls before he had even stepped foot inside.

 

Looking back quickly, he found the space where Merlin had been confusingly empty.

 

“What the...?” Arthur looked over his shoulder and back again, as if there had been some mistake. It made no difference, Merlin had vanished.

 

Confused Arthur took one step forward, before a hand reaching out of the shadows grabbed his wrist and pulled. Stumbling unprepared he crashed into the stable, into his servant, and only stopped as they crashed against the wall. “Merlin! What do you think you are doing?”

 

 “Hiding?” The obtuse answer came back in hushed tones, and with a breath whispering across his cheek

 

“Hiding!?”  Arthur paused, pursed his lips and fought hard against the impulse to shake Merlin until he started making sense. “I don’t hide in my own stables Mer...”

 

“I know you’re in here!” Hennery’s voice came again, and Arthur felt Merlin’s body that was pressed tightly against his shrink back even further into the wall.

 

Instantly missing the contact, Arthur moved forward unconsciously closing the gap, “Merlin?”

 

“shhhh, please.”

 

“I think you have some explaining to do.” Arthur whispered after a second, desperately trying to stop his thoughts from being derailed again, this time by the feel of Merlin’s chest moving against his each time either of them took a breath.

 

 “About?” Merlin asked his voice light, as if this was the most natural thing in the world.

 

Arthur rolled his eyes, “Start with why I’m hiding with you in a stable, the rest...” he sighed. “...Can come later.” 

 

Arthur felt Merlin swallow hard at the thought of explaining himself, but after a second he complied. “Hennery wants to lock me in a stable with blaze.” He blurted out, the words running into each other in that way they did when he rushed.

 

Arthur had to stifle a laugh. That was it? That was the reason he could feel Merlin trembling ever so slightly; an idle threat about Arthur’s most volatile stallion.  “I can understand that compulsion.” He whispered with a smile, his mouth close to Merlin’s ear. “But I doubt he would go through with it.”

 

“Ha,” The sound that escaped Merlin shook Arthur confidence, and suddenly he remembered a tale of a stable boy that had been found unconscious outside of Gaius door, less than a month ago. No one had been able to explain his injuries. The boy had absconded the moment he was well enough to walk, with no explanation.  Was it possible the head groom had something to do with it? Was that what Merlin had been referring to when he had insisted a few nights ago, that beating of servants took place in Camelot?

 

Running his hand from where it had been unexplainable resting on Merlin’s arm, up the boy’s body, he planted it firmly against the wall above his shoulder, and leant forward until there was barley a gap between their faces.

 

His eyes now accustom to the gloom, locked firmly onto Merlin’s. “You are mine Merlin,” he hissed, claiming out loud the boy for the second time since Kay's arrival. Not fighting to keep the undeniable possessiveness throbbing in his veins from his voice. “and if he harms you,” Arthur grew a little louder now to combat against the noise from an unfriendly animal, bucking in the next stable. “I swear his punishment will be far far worse.”

 

Merlin’s breath hitched in his throat, and Arthur felt the movement vibrate through his own body, setting light to his already raw nerves.

 

For a second only a single breath passed between them and then, a hand landed solidly on Arthur’s shoulder.

 

“There you are!”

***

Merlin gasped at the lost of contact as Arthur was pulled backwards, and away from him. Stepping forward he was amazed to find Arthur’s hand splayed in the middle of his chest pushing him back.

 

Instantly obeying the unspoken order, he just watching as Arthur twisted, and unsheathed his sword before he even made eye contact with his attacker.

 

“Ohh Sire I...I...” Hennery’s face drained pure white with gratifying speed. Instantly realising his mistake the second Arthur was out of the shadows.

 

“Lay a hand on me or my servants every again, and you shall lose more than just your job.” Arthur’s threat was cold, deadly, dripping with venom, and it sent annother shiver down Merlin’s spine.

 

Lowering his gaze, satisfied that his prince was in no danger, Merlin took a moment to be grateful that Arthur hadn’t named him directly in that warning. Not only so he could avoid implication but because of the benefit the young stable boys would get from the directive. He had long suspected Hennery didn’t use physical discipline as a last resort for those under his command, but rather because he enjoyed it.

 

 “Calm down Arthur, Hennery was only doing as I asked.”

 

 Snapping his head up, Merlin blinked, he hadn’t even seen the other man standing there until he spoke.

 

“Kay?” Arthur finally lowered his weapon, at the sight of the fellow prince. “You asked him to drag me about!?”

 

“No I asked him to find your servant...” Merlin fell back a little, as Kay eyes narrowed, and he seemed to look directly to where he stood. “...but you shall do.”

 

Arthur visibly bristled. “What do you want with Merlin?”

 

 “The same as you, I presume.” Kay’s innocent smile looked increasingly smug on his face. “To congratulate him of course. Luck appears to be his friend.”

 

“Ha,” Arthur laughed falsely. “Luck is no friend of Merlin’s.”

 

Strolling over to the horse Merlin had ridden, Kay petted it nose for a second, before speaking, with his even tone intact as always. “You won because of a fluke accident Arthur, it could have been just as easy your man that fell, and mine to save him. I call that lucky.”

 

 Merlin watched as Arthur’s jaw tightened, if Kay knew him better he would be able to tell from that small gesture, just as Merlin could, that he wasn’t in the mood for this apparent small talk. Suddenly the initial jealously Merlin had felt at their friendship seemed ridiculous. It was increasingly clear there was no friendship left between the princes.  

 

“I call it winning!”

 

“Hmm, well think as you will.” Kay waved his hand dismissively, and moved to walk away, before turning back. “Oh but Arthur will...” Kay paused as if trying to remember, “...Merlin be joining us for your celebration tonight.”

 

“No!” Arthur’s reply was so instant; Merlin flinched, as if he had been slapped.

 

“Shame, it would be nice to get to know him better, but there’s always time I guess... you know after.”

 

“You’re not going to win Kay!” Arthur snapped as the barb hit its intended destination. “I won’t let you!”

 

Finished with the conversation, Kay didn’t even turn to acknowledge Arthur, before exiting the door. Hennery was hot on his heels, obviously not wanting to be left alone with the annoyed prince, he had just manhandled.

 

As the sound of the door closing, Merlin rested back on to the wall. His head was spinning. The pain growing in his leg was getting increasingly difficult to ignore, without the feel of Arthur pressed against him, to distract from it.

 

He had barley taken a breath, before Arthur spoke again, his tone no lighter than it had just been. “Get out here Merlin.”

 

Stepping forward Merlin winced as he tried to shift weight on to his injured leg. He was afraid if he stepped away from the wall all he would find was the floor, but still he had to try. Arthur didn’t look in the mood for disobedience. Limping more than he liked he made it to Arthurs side.

 

“Why did you do it?” Arthur’s demanded as he threw a frustrated hand through his hair.

 

Merlin could barely hear the princes anger above the sound of blood rushing in his head, but it seemed clear enough, the conversation he had been hoping to avoid had arrived. Shaking his head to clear it as he realised Arthur was waiting for an answer, he took the deepest breath he could. “I’m sorry.”

 

“You disobeyed me.” Arthur snapped as he finally turned to stare directly at Merlin.

 “I told you I didn’t want you, and yet there your name appears on a document, I know full well I never signed and never even saw before last night. You have risked me everything.” Arthur paused to catch his breath. “Do you know what would happen if I told my father the truth? That you...” Arthur looked over his shoulder before continuing under his breath. “Forged my royal seal! How did you even do that?”

 

Any colour that was left drained from Merlin’s already pale face, it was a question he couldn’t answer, certainly not with the truth anyway. Starring at the ground, he struggled desperately to think of something, anything to calm the prince.  A lie that would make sense. “I err...”

 

“Dammit Merlin!” Frustrated Arthur reached forward and grabbed the front of his shirt. “Answer me!”

 

Already unsteady on his feet Merlin groaned aloud, as the action caused him to twist the injured muscle in his leg.

 

His pain drowned the fire in Arthur’s eyes almost immediately, and the prince’s grip turned from aggressive to supporting His cold tone replaced without hesitation, with one his father would never approve of. “Merlin, let me see your injury?”

 

He wasn’t sure if it was an order or a question, but ignored the swelling nausea deep in his stomach, Merlin nodded gently. He had hoped to keep the wound from the prince. Not wanting to concern him over his ability to continue with the competition, but right now it seemed the less of two evils.

 

“It’s nothing really, just a...AH!” Merlin took a sharp intake of breath and forced himself to bite deep into his bottom lip to keep from crying out further.

 

Arthur who had dropped to his knees the moment Merlin had nodded, was pulling at the still wet cloth clinging to his calf.

 

“Nothing?”  Arthur repeated incredulous, as finally he ripped the already shredded material further, and exposed Merlin’s leg.

 

Looking down with a wince Merlin finally saw what he had only felt until now, and was surprised by the preciseness off it. Five deep lacerations travelled from just below his knee to his ankle. Evenly spaced, with swelling between each, they almost look as if they could have been carved by a knife.

 

“That is not nothing!” Arthur admonished.

 

“Well, maybe five nothings?” Merlin joked, his mischievous smile only growing when Arthur muttered an expletive in response.

 

“Just...” Arthur held his hand up, and pointed at Merlin, as he found his feet “Just... stay there.”

 

Merlin rolled his eye at the order. It wasn’t like he was particularly planning on going for a jog around the castle, anytime ever again.

 

“What are you doing?” despite being forbidden to, more times than he could count Merlin couldn’t help but question the prince, when he returned moments later, and knelt behind him.

 

As he tried to turn Arthur’s hands snapped to his hips, “Stay still!” he almost growled, his fingers linger long enough to make Merlin’s throat tightened before running down his leg, to return to where they had been before.

 

“Aarg..” Merlin jumped forward, the bubbling fire in his stomach instantly extinguished by a wet rag stroking his skin, in place of the warm fingers he had been expecting. “Arthur that’s cold!”

 

“So was the bath you poured me last week.” Arthur snorted.

 

***

 

Stepping away from the crack in the door, Kay shook his head in disgust. Arthur had covered for Merlin, hid him, hell he even kneeled at his feet. What kind of prince did that? No wonder Uther was so hard on his boy, he was clearly an embarrassment.

 

Witnessing Arthur and Merlin alone together however, enlightened Kay to more than just the reasoning for Uther’s actions. The missing motive Kay had been searching for, as to why Arthur had lied about who was his manservant, was suddenly clear. As was Arthur confusion over the signed contract, refuting all those lies, Kay had produced at dinner last night.

 

There was obviously a friendship between prince and this servant, one that ran deeper than even acts of treason. Kay just smiled, winning this year, was going to be all the sweeter now he knew the true stakes at risk. Arthur wasn’t worried about losing because of the glory, or lack off, he was worried about losing his servant.  

 

Kay smile grew as he headed for the palace. 

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

Merlin lay face down on his bed. His eyes were shut but he felt far from achieving any kind of sleep. The day’s events or rather the day’s emotions played over in his head, in a never ending loop. Panic quickened his heart, just as it had when his eyes first opened this morning. The adrenaline of the competition twitched his muscles, and pain from his injury responded. The joy of winning was washed away by the loneliness of after. Then the dozen or so other emotions Arthur had elicited from him during their time together spun him around until he felt dizzy. Torturously the emotions that hurt lingered in his mind, stretching out as if they had taken place over days rather than minutes.  Whereas those that he wanted to hold on to so tightly and never forget, flashed quicker than lightening in his conscious. Before he was even truly aware of them they were gone.

 “Merlin?”

Gaius’ very real and present voice suddenly called to him through his closed door, and Merlin jumped.

When Merlin had arrived home, with Arthur’s absolution of his duties and strict order to rest still ringing in his ears, the old physician had been absent. With his usual apothecary bag missing from its resting place, Merlin presumed Gaius was still treating Geoffrey. A presumption which now sparked his interest for he wished no ill on the fellow servant, and wondered how he was. He had no doubt Kay’s treatment of him would be far less compassionate than Arthurs.

Sitting, he was amazed by how dull his room had grown, and looking up to the small window he realised evening was already well upon them. Perhaps he had fallen asleep after all, and all those memories were only that of fevered dreams. Swinging his legs off the bed, he winced as the injured one brushed against the wood, and dissolved that theory instantly.

“Merlin?” The call of his name came again, and although he could not see the man he could hear the worry clear in his voice. The creak of his door pulled Merlin’s attention and he smiled as Gaius’ head appeared in the gap

“Mer...?” Gaius’ questioning call stopped the moment his eyes found the boy perched on his bed.

Raising a hand slightly, Merlin waved.

“Oh here you are. I was worried.” Shuffling forward the physician joined Merlin on the bed. “I have been calling you, you know?”

Merlin bowed his head, the mild chastisement felt paternal, for although he had spent most of his life not knowing the man next to him, in the past year he had become a father to him.  “Sorry,” he apologised after a moment and nudged the old man’s shoulder. “How is Geoffery?”

Gaius studded him for a second. “He will live. How are you?”

 “The same.” Merlin grinned.

Gaius’ eyebrows raised and his eyes dropped down to Merlin’s leg. “Truthfully?”

Merlin nodded his head. He could almost see the image of him standing there bleeding on the competition field replaying in Gaius’ head. “It is fine, I promise you. Arth...” He stopped himself short, overwhelmed by the strong desire to keep the moment between him and the prince private. Refusing to question why, he continued, twisting the truth only a little. “...I...err... I cleaned it, and bandaged it; it was just a few scratches nothing serious.”

Gaius head bobbed a little and it seemed to Merlin he was weighing up the answer before choosing to accept it. “Well it’s a good job I re-stocked the calendula salve, huh? Use it should you need it.” He ordered, and with a groan that spoke more of age than annoyance, got to his feet. “I trust you know where it is by now?”

Merlin smiled, he had lost count of the amount of times he had needed that small bottle of cream to treat his, or Arthur’s minor abrasions. Like all of Gaius mixtures it worked well, and he knew if he used it, those marks on his skin would soon be nothing but a memory. “Thank you Gaius,”

Silently Gaius patted the boy on the shoulder, and allowed another moment of silence to pass, before asking another question. “Merlin, why didn’t you tell me you were going to compete today?”

Looking up, Merlin suddenly felt a guilt he had not felt all day, as a worried mask settled over the man’s face once more. “I didn’t know at first, and then... I just wanted to prove that I could.”  he admitted with a sigh, dropping his gaze to his hands. “Everyone was so determined I couldn’t do it. I’m sick of Arth…” He stopped himself short on Arthurs name again, “of not being trusted, of just being a servant.”

“Merlin,” Gaius’ head tilted sympathetically, “You have always been more than just a servant.”

Merlin just frowned, as he watched Gaius move to the door. Surely that was all he could ever be.

 “Come now, are you hungry?” Gaius beckoned with a suddenly mischievous grin.

Merlin allowed the happy expression to pull him away from the edge of brooding, and he nodded. He hadn’t particularly thought of food, but at the mention of it his stomach twisted and reminded him he hadn’t had anything all day. He had been too nervous this morning to even attempt breakfast, and the competition had taken care of any chance of lunch.

“Let me see if I can find a little something for you.” Gaius gestured that he follow before disappearing from the doorway.

The site that greeted Merlin as he stepped from his room took his breath away. Gaius’ long dining table more regularly used for potions, poultices, and poisons alike was heaving under a feast’s worth of food. An unfamiliar cauldron of something hot steamed at one end, and a full joint of meat at the other. In-between were bowls of fruit and vegetables as varied as he had ever seen in the great hall. Loaves of bread, sweet and savoury piled on top of one another, and cheeses in a variety of colours fought for space on wooden plates. Four jugs too large for the crowded table stood on a separate one. Beer? Or wine? He couldn’t tell which it was at this distance, but he could recognise the local tavern’s logo embossed in the clay. When finally he thought his wide eyes had noticed all the foreign items in the room, a noise from one corner startled him. Looking quickly he found two chickens in a cage of their own starring straight back at him.

Stumbling over his feet Merlin moved forward. “What is all this?”

“Gifts Merlin,” Gaius explained as he stood at the table. “From the people of Camelot. The prince is not the only person you honour by winning today. Did you not see the crowd?”

Merlin bit his lip and shook his head in honest confession. Gaius just sighed and questioned him no further on it.

“To lose for five years in a row Merlin is somewhat of an embarrassment for all of Camelot. It is not something the town is used to where Arthur is concerned. Today you changed that and so everyone is celebrating. Everyone is very proud of you.” Gaius hand waved over a small puddle of red fabric adorning his usual seat, which Merlin recognised as a new scarf. “As am I.”

Merlin blushed embarrassed by the praise. Gaius could not have found a more appropriate present. Merlin had lost his original red necktie somewhere unknown months back and the wolf was probably still chewing on his other. “All this, I don’t deserve...”

Gaius’ eyes narrowed a little. “I presume you won... fairly?”

Merlin flinched against the unspoken accusation of his magic that only Gaius could make. “Of course.” He swore.

“Then come, sit.” Gaius took a seat at the table. “For once let us celebrate an achievement of yours that you can share with the world.”

With a smile that lit the candles on the table, Merlin headed for his seat eagerly. The smell of the cooked meat was making his stomach rumble, and he couldn’t deny it any longer.

He had barley settled at the table, before a soft knock on the door drew his attention from the food. Merlin instantly looked to Gaius who denied all knowledge of its reasoning with a gentle shake of his head.

Strangely apprehensive, Merlin was relieved, as on his feet once more he opened the door to a smiling face.

“Gwen!”

“Merlin.” Nodding her head the maid greeted him and held out her hands. “I’ve brought you something.”

Looking down at the bowl she carried, Merlin saw all the best fruit from the palace kitchens. “No,” he felt his heart swell once more, and he was overwhelmed. “You didn’t... have to do that... I didn’t...”

“I think what he is trying to say Guinevere,” Gaius called from the table, “... is thank you. Won’t you please come in and join us?”

Merlin nodded enthusiastically, took a step back and waved his arm into the room. “What he said.”

 Gwen just giggled slightly; as she pressed the bowl into his hands, and stepped into the space he created. “The Lady Morgana was good enough to give me the time off.” Gwen explained “To come and celebrate with you.”  

“On the proviso that I could come as well, of course.” From the shadows behind Gwen a second voice spoke, and its owner moved forward into the doorway to reveal herself.

“Morgana!”

“Hello Merlin, Gaius” Raising her hand in greeting at them, her smile was as wide and as warm as Gwen’s.

Merlin was lost for words, and his eyes flicked from Gwen to Morgana and back again, both women dressed in their finest. “But why...?”

Turning as Gwen helped her from her cloak Morgana plucked at one of the grapes from the fruit basket Merlin still held. “What is the point of celebrating?” she questioned, “If it is not with the person responsible for it?”

***

Arthur stifled a yawn, the great hall was filled with many knights from both royal households but he could barley be bothered to acknowledge them. Staring at Morgana’s empty chair opposite him, he found himself unable to tear his eyes away from it. The nagging suspicion of where she was left a vile taste in his mouth.

_“Will the Lady Morgana not be joining us?”_ Arthur fought not to pull a face as Kay’s earlier question repeated in his head.

_“She sends her apologises, she has a headache.”_ His father’s forgiving response, was almost as bad. _“You know how women are, too much sun probably.”_

Arthur shook his head as he reached for his cup. Oh what an easy lie she had used, what would he give to be able to get away with such a thing? He could just imagine the look on his father’s face, if he stood up and excused himself from their company with such a minor ailment.  As it was it seemed he was already in his father’s bad books, and even he was amazed at how quickly the glory of his win had worn off.

Unable to find the smart jacket he had wanted to wear in the mess that was his room, without Merlin to help, he had elected to stay in his day clothes.  A decision which had gained him a disapproving look from his father, before he even sat down.

 Then there had been speeches, and his father’s praising words that to everyone else he was sure sounded sincere, but to Arthur had felt hollow. He had stopped listening long before he should have. The result of which earned him another dissatisfied glare, when he failed to acknowledge the toast to him.

Having been forced to pay attention Arthur found King James speech a little more to his liking. He at least mentioned Merlin’s involvement in today’s events, even if he didn’t know his actual name. Unlike his father, who did know Merlin’s name but spoke as if it had been Arthur riding in the race the entire time.

“Missing someone Arthur?” Kay’s sharp voice teased him, once the speeches were done, loud enough to earn him a third look from his father.

Dragging his eyes to look at the fellow prince, Arthur paled a little. The look on Kay’s face was so smug Arthur felt his leg twitch with the compulsion to kick him, and hard.

“It’s just...,” Kay seemed to pause as Arthur’s eyes narrowed. “…you’ve been starring at Morgana’s chair all night.”

Arthur let out the breath he didn’t realise he had been holding. “I was just wishing for her speedy return to good health. After all we wouldn’t want our court physician pulled away from tending your man.”

Kay’s face darkened instantly at the mention of Geoffrey injuries, and Arthur smiled for the first time that evening.

“At least...” Kay’s come back was interrupted by the sound of the heavy wooden doors at the end of the hall crashing open with urgency.

Standing there in full uniform and his red cloak swaying from his movements Sir Leon breathed heavily.

Arthur was on his feet instantly, “Father.” He called after a second, when he realised the king hadn’t even noticed.

“Sire there has been an incident in the lower...” Sir Leon’s explanation got no further than that, before Arthur had stepped away from his chair.

“I’ll deal with it.” He announced.

“No!” Uther’s annoyance was clear on his face, as he looked at his son. “This meal is to honour you Arthur, you will stay. I am sure the Knights can handle it.”

“Father...!”

“If your son is needed...” Kay leant forward across the table and spoke directly over Arthur’s objection. “Then do not let our presence detain him. It is after all a compliment to you to see how highly prized your sons time is.”

Uther looked from one prince to the other, before waving his hand, “Oh very well, go deal with it Arthur.”

“Thank you Sire.” Arthur fought to keep his face straight as he bowed his head at both kings, and reluctantly Kay.

Suspicion for the reasoning behind Kay’s kind words, lasted in Arthur’s mind until the moment the doors closed behind him and it was replaced with a heady mixture of relief and excitement. The almost empty corridor held far more promise than the crowded hall did tonight.

“Sir Leon,” Arthur clapped his Knight on the back unable to suppress his smile any longer. “I never knew you lied so well!”

Leon swelled at the praise, “I do only as commanded Sire.” Reaching behind him he plucked two large jugs of wine from a waiting servant’s hand. “And I do believe you wanted these.”

Arthur’s grin just widened.

Intent on wasting no more of the evening Arthur made his way through the castle as quickly as he could. Despite all the promises he had made to himself that he would not do this, he could not keep them. There was only one place he needed to be tonight and it was not at his father’s side. 

The laughter escaping the ill fitting door he arrived at, instantly reassured him it was the right thing to do. With his hands full Arthur kicked at the door. He felt his stomach tighten as the laughter died. The scrapping back of a chair and the painfully slow footsteps that replaced it did nothing to ease his trepidation.

“Arthur?” Merlin’s amazed gasp of his name, drowned it instantly, and replaced it with something else entirely.  

Arthur swallowed hard and held the wine out in front of him. “Room for one more?”

***

Sat in the corner of the room upon his bed, with a book in his lap Gaius watched the four young people around the table intently. He had relinquished his seat there with them sometime back. A simple lie about studying something or another had quietened their quick and well meaning objections to his absence.

The friends, for that was all he could see, no rank or title mattered at this table, listened rapt to one another’s stories, and laughed when the occasion demanded, wholeheartedly. Their youthful spirits high as they begun to work their way through the entire four jugs of wine Merlin had been given as his tribute. The two higher quality ones, which Arthur had brought with him, were already drained and forgotten.

It did Gaius good to see such a sight, one he had not seen in many years. Not truly. He had been at more feasts than he could count but he could not remember seeing one enjoyed with such honesty, and without at least one of its participants harbouring some underlying ambition to be achieved.

If he searched far enough back in his memory, he could remember a time when Uther was not much older, and could laugh just as raucously as Arthur did now. In fact for that whole year while Igraine had sat by Uther’s side, finally as his wife, Gaius could have been fooled in to thinking of him and Uther as friends, such was the lenience of the court back then. Of course that had changed, just as everything else had with Igrane’s death and Arthur’s birth.

Not that Gaius blamed Arthur in the slightest for any of the monstrous things his father had done since that fateful night. He couldn’t even blame Uther really, not for everything. Certainly he had been mad with grief at the beginning. Still Gaius knew the king would have to pay heavily for all those deeds of his own making, just as Gaius would for his own sins, one day.

Shaking his head to clear the sad memories of the past, Gaius looked at the boy he had been privileged to hold as he had taken his very first breath in this world. He was amazed by how many moments had passed between that one and this. It had been Gaius’ responsibility to help Arthur through the scraped knees and sniffles of his childhood. Then later through his first battle wound and the hundred that had inevitably followed. But he had never been able to help him even half as much as the boy currently sat to his right, whose arm Arthur’s hand rested on comfortably, as he rocked back on his stool, laughter spilling from his lips.

Merlin.

Since Merlin had arrived and brought his light into all their lives Arthur had changed immeasurably.  No longer did Arthur conform slavishly to his arrogant prince role, content on using his subjects for target practice. Now he cared for them, fought for them, and apparently dinned with them. It was no surprise to Gaius that it was only recently that Uther had named Arthur as crowned prince, for only recently had he truly deserved it.

Gaius knew that no matter what small kinship he had fooled himself into believing was once between him and Uther, it wasn’t even on the same scale as the one Merlin and Arthur shared. A fact further proved as he watched Arthur reach for the jug of wine, and refill Merlin’s cup before his own.

They were friends and there where very few who would deny it, themselves making up the majority of those that would. No matter what words spilled from their lips, it was clear for anyone to see, their relationship had grown far beyond that of a master and servant.

The true depth of that connection was often most exposed in those darkest moments of their friendship, when one or the other’s life was in peril.

A mixture of fear and anger in Arthur’s eyes had shone painfully bright, as he carried a dying Merlin from Bayard’s ill fated feast.  Refusing to let anyone else touch the boy, a possessive growl, worthy of an injured lion emanated from him when a Knight had tried.

Merlin had worn a similar look enhanced only with determination, and tears ready to fall, as he threw every ounce of magic he owned at a lifeless Arthur, in desperation to save him. Not caring that the king was moments away, and discovery would mean his death, spoke far louder than the words tumbling from his lips.

Lately however, Gaius with increasing regularity had begun witnessing small everyday actions which hinted at the closeness between them. Where one was, the other was never far behind. When hands clashed in reaching for the same thing, as they had just now, they lingered for a second before snapping away. Words heard by all were aimed at specific ears, and eyes held gazes for longer than necessary conveying information only the recipient understood.

It was not just in these private acts that Gaius recognised feelings, but in open ones too. Arthur seemed to disobey his father’s words for Merlin on a weekly basis, ignoring both orders and laws alike. Merlin simply obeyed no one but Arthur.

There at the depth of it all, Gaius recognised a single truth, the underestimating of which had been the downfall of many of their enemies. They were devoted to each other. They would kill for one another and they would die for one another. No matter what name you chose to give it, he could think of no stronger bond between two people.

In the wake of such revelations Gaius itched to ask Arthur why he had changed his mind, and put Merlin to risk in the competition. Did he truly trust Merlin enough to win, that the price of loosing was no longer a concern? Or had he somehow convinced himself that he could pay up if he did lose?

Gaius shook his head, and looked down at his book, the title of which he had long forgotten. Surely Arthur could not be so blind as to believe that he could give up Merlin into the service of the other prince for even a week, never mind the required year and a day.

***

“So you’re not worried about losing then?” Uther’s commanding voice echoed around the banquet hall, as he threw a question at the boy opposite him. 

“Losing?” Kay shook his head at Uther. “To your son? No my lord. Why would I be?”

Uther practically choked on the mouth of wine he had just swigged, and Kay smiled.

The king of Camelot was profoundly inebriated by now, and it was exactly what Kay wanted, and indeed paid one of the servants a lot of money to help him achieve.

“But...you lost today!”

“Oh that,” Kay just laughed lightly, and took a mouthful of his heavily watered drink. “A minor upset Sire, one my servant will be punished for, I assure you.”

Uther thumped the table, as he shook his head. “Your arrogance astounds me.” He announced in a voice that Kay was sure was supposed to be far more condemning than it actually came out.

“I like to think of it as confidence Sire. My win is assured as it has been every other year, in fact I...” he paused and looked around theatrically at the empty table. He’s own father and all the other men of note had already retired. Something that he was sure would only help his cause. “...No, I shouldn’t say anything.”

Uther’s head snapped up almost instantly, a fresh alertness shinning in his eyes. “Speak your mind.”

Kay sighed and forced another drink down his throat. “Well it seems so unfair, me keep winning year after year, with no challenge. I was going to speak to Arthur about it tonight.” he admitted. “I had a proposal but...” he waved his hand at the empty chair. “Never mind it doesn’t matter. I doubt he would have agreed anyway.”

Uther sat up straighter now. “Arthur can match any challenge you have.” 

Kay leaned back in his chair nonchalant, “Perhaps.” He agreed. “But would he be agreeable to a renegotiation of terms? I believe his fear of losing would be too strong. ” 

Uther’s eyes positively burned holes into him now, and Kay knew he had hit the right nerve by accusing Arthur of fear.

“My son is afraid of nothing! Tell me your terms!” The king ordered. “I will speak Arthur’s mind on them.”

Kay gave a resigned shrug, after all who was he to disobey the King. Leaning forward he closed the distance between them. “As you wish Sire.”


	13. Chapter 13

Arthur rolled over on his bed, and kicked at the heavy blankets restricting him. The sticky heat of the last few days continued, and he wasn’t sure exactly why he had crawled under the sheets last night, but now he was there he was reluctant to move too much.

A noise registered in his mind, and consciousness nagged at him, but he fought it off as if it were any other enemy of his, ferociously.

Sleep. He just wanted a little more sleep.

Rubbing his cheek against a cool spot on the pillow, he soothed himself with the knowledge that the sound when it came again, wasn’t that of Merlin, coming to wake him. He knew those sounds exact.

Merlin announced his presence, with a gentle knock on the days when was feeling particularly pious, or more habitually, just with the creak of the door opening as he entered unbidden. Cautious footsteps made hardly a noise as he sneaked around the room, followed by a stumble as he inevitably tripped over something. A crash of plates onto a table would be next, and then if he were patient enough not to react, he would get another moment of peace before Merlin attempted to coax him awake.  

If he were lucky a hand that had no good reason to be so soft considering the amount of chores he gave it to do, rubbed circles into his back. The touch hesitant at first would eventually turn into a tight grip shaking his shoulder, when he stubbornly refused to respond. Although he was always awake from the moment Merlin stepped in his room, and so the touches and whispers of his name were superfluous, if given the opportunity, he indulged in this charade more often than he would like to admit.

If he were unlucky Merlin would forgo coming anywhere near the bed, instead just opening the window shutters to the morning sun with a loud bang, and an attempt to blind Arthur into wakefulness.

His manservant’ behaviour in those morning hours, tended to depend on what errands Arthur had given him the previous day, and indeed what exploits they had been up to.

The week after they had returned from Eldor, for example Merlin had been extra vigilant to achieve silence on his arrival, setting the breakfast table with as lavish a meal as he could. In fact that week had been the first time Merlin had woken him with a soft touch. In comparison he had a week of stale bread, stomping feet, and sunshine awakenings, the week after the death of Gwen’s father.

Arthur was aware that many people in the castle thought that he bullied Merlin, but few knew that Merlin got his own back in little ways, and that Arthur allowed him to. This give and take of their relationship had settled into a secure rhythm with remarkable speed, and despite what he said on many occasions he would not have it change.

Some mornings he would awake and greet his manservant with a sleepy smile. More frequently he would snap up with angry words, and demands instantly springing from his lips. Morning was not his friend, he was aware of it, he liked sleep too much. However an experience with a night assassin years ago, when he was just a boy, had forced him into sleeping so lightly it rarely felt like he achieved enough.  

As the noise which had disturbed his sleep this morning came again his eyes suddenly shot open, and he sat bolt upright. An irrational fear that it was his father once again in his chamber’s slithered in his stomach.

That moment of fear that the sound had been the king standing over him was only chased away once his sweeping gaze confirmed the room was as empty as he had earlier presumed.

Sighing he took a deep breath and realised not only that the shock of yesterday morning was going to take a long time to wear off, but the adrenaline rush he had just given himself had ruined any chance he had of returning to sleep. Looking around he frowned. Now he was awake he really needed to know what the noise was that had woken him. So he could shout at the person responsible.

When it echoed through the room accompanied by a call of his name, he instantly realised what it was.

“Arthur!”

Cursing his sleepy brain for not recognising it the first time, he slipped from his bed and crossed to the door barefooted. Pulling it open, he raised his eyebrows at the woman standing there. “What is it Morgana?”

Stepping into the room uninvited she looked him up and down.

“Have your clothes offended you Arthur? Or are you deliberately shunning social conventions these days?”

Stifling a yawn Arthur crossed his arms over his bare chest. “If you want civility Morgana, come back at civilised time. I have just woken.”

“Clearly,” Her eyes now rested on his sleep ruffled hair, and he fought against the urge to smooth it down. “I realise it was a late night last night Arthur, but it is mid morning, I had thought even you would be awake by now.” she spoke as if speaking to a small child. “I mean really, the kitchens are already preparing lunch.”

Arthur frowned again, as slowly he deciphered her words. Mid morning? Throwing an unsubtle gaze over his shoulder, he looked at the window and realised the sun escaping the edge of the curtain was indeed far brighter than it should have been for the early hour he had thought it to be. “Oh,” He couldn’t stop himself as his next thoughts expressed themselves audibly “…But Merlin hasn’t been yet.”

Morgana just gave him a look that he was certain was poking fun at his inability to function without his manservant. He decided to ignore it, and stared at her blankly.

“Well…” She smoothed a nonexistent wrinkle from her dress. “…I would be surprised if he is even conscious, after the amount of wine you poured down his throat last night.”

Arthur raised his hand to his head and realised there was indeed a dull throb there. Nothing compared to yesterday morning of course, but still it was there. Screwing up his face he tried to remember the previous night. He remembered a lot of laughter, and his hands moving to the jug repeatedly refilling all of their cups without prompting. He did not remember, cradling Merlin’s head in his hands and pouring it straight into his open mouth. The image he suddenly conjured, disturbed him. Had he truly done that? He was pretty sure he would remember if he had.

Morgana suddenly laughed, and he groaned as he realised too late she had meant the barb figuratively. “What do you want?” he snapped.

Her face darkened instantly in response and she bit her lip, a nervous habit of hers which he was never happy to see, except for when they were playing cards. Seeing as he wasn’t aware of any game they were playing it didn’t bode well.   

Taking a breath she held out the paper that he only just noticed was in her hands. “Have you seen this?”

Grabbing the roll of paper which looked far to official for Arthur’s liking, he opened it and devoured the contents as quickly as he could.

“NO! NO!” Arthur shook his head as the words chilled him, “I Didn’t... this isn’t... right...I...” Desperately he looked to Morgana for some kind of explanation. “Where did you get this?”

“Kay’s room.” She admitted a somewhat sheepish tone to her voice. “I breakfasted with him this morning. He was bragging about it. So when I left it... happened to come with me.”

Arthur was barley listening to her; his eyes were back on the page rereading.

_We the undersigned agree to the following caveats to the formerly agreed upon terms of the prince’s challenge._

_The final dual is to be conducted with edged blade, and to the knight’s rules of first blood._

_The length of sentence, for the compulsory service of the loosing manservant to the winning prince, shall be increased to last his lifetime._

_The Victor shall also be due double the value of gold previously agreed, the stable horse of their choosing, forty barrels of mead, a golden chain forged from…_

The list continued, but Arthur’s eyes skipped down, to search for names scrawled at the bottom of the document. He cared little about the doubling of gold and increase of all other prizes, which for kingdoms both as rich as theirs were only for show anyway. The only thing that mattered was whether those first two terms had been agreed upon or not.

They had. His father’s name stood out proud inked, although a little shakily, with a depth of colour that spoke of freshness. Balling his hands into fists, Arthur forced himself to drop the paper before he tore it into shreds.  Why did everyone keep signing things before he got a chance to see them?

“Arthur?” Morgana called his name, but she could have been speaking gibberish for all the attention he gave her.

How could his father do this to him?

The first point alone on the notice was enough to boil his anger. Escalating the final fight from that with training swords, and concluding on points, to a full duel was frankly ludicrous.

The second however, doubled his heart rate, and made him feel as if all the air had been sucked out of the room.

The previous threat of a year and a day servitude, which had been the traditionally agreed terms, and in truth the most significant part of the competition, had been enough to cause Arthur to do everything he could to keep Merlin far away from the competition. To have failed in his attempts to keep him safe from that, was bad enough, but to have that threat increased before his very eyes was almost more than he could bear.

As the realisation he could now loose Merlin forever burrowed deep into his heart, a feeling of drowning washed over him, and he pulled a shuddering breath into his lungs.

“You have not agreed to this?” Morgana questioned, in a tone he could not decipher. Looking up he had to blink to bring her into focus.

“Of course not!” he roared, his anger spiked by the thought that she would suspect him of agreeing to such barbaric terms. “My father must have... I didn’t...last night...” Arthur tangled words came as he fought to make sense of things. Suddenly his stomach tightened painfully. Kay’s smiling face flashed in his mind, and he remembered the way the other prince’s words enabled him to leave last night banquet. “...KAY!” he realised, “It was Kay’s idea!”

He couldn’t, no he wouldn’t let this happen, stomping forward he headed towards the door.

“Arthur!” Reaching out Morgana caught his arm, and pulled him back.

“Let go of me!” he demanded trying to shaking her off a little more viciously than he would any other time. “I have to see my father, I have to get this reversed, I can’t...” his throat tightened, strangling his words.

 “You’re not even dressed.” She reminded him, pulling on his arm. “and anyway he's not even there, he went out riding with James this morning.”

“I will see Kay then.” Arthur would not be dissuaded; he had a burning need to fix this before Merlin found out.

The sudden thought of Merlin froze his hand on the door handle.

“What of Merlin?” Morgana repeated the name as if she was reading his thoughts. “Have you even explained the original terms yet?”

Arthur shivered as if a bucket of ice water had just been thrown across his skin. He hadn’t told Merlin anything. At first he had keep his servant in the dark, because he reasoned if he was not competing he didn’t need to know the risk. Since Merlin’s actions had forced him into accepting him as his representative things had moved so fast, he hadn’t had the opportunity to tell him all he risked.

“Oh Arthur,” she groaned his name, his actions obviously revealing the answer without him having to speak a word. “You have to tel...”

“I know!” He cut her off before she finished, and allowed his head to fall heavy against the wood of the door. “I know.”

“Come on,” Morgana’s gentle voice was back as her hand touched his shoulder pulling him upright. “First get dressed."

Dressing quicker than even he knew he could, Arthur stepped out of his chambers with his plan, which even Morgana had agreed upon, clear in his head, as well as the few details he hadn’t shared with her. If he could get Kay to revoke these latest terms and return to the originals, he need not tell Merlin of the life sentence he faced, only the traditional one, which in itself he needed to find a way around. The most simple of which was to make sure Merlin won the next round. If Kay refused, well, Arthur knew he would have a hard time restraining that fire that was burning in his blood.

“Kay!” a demanding call of the fellow prince’s name was the only notice he gave as he walked into his chambers, refusing to knock on a door in his own castle. When no response came and he realised the room was empty he was disappointed and relieved in equal measures.

Now he would need to find some other way of exercising that anger which he had held onto deliberately.

Silently moving about the room he returned the stolen paper to the desk in the corner, as Morgana had bid him do, denying his own impulse to throw it on the roaring fire where it deserved to be.

***

After letting Morgana’s think her theft had gone unnoticed, Kay lingered in his own room for only long enough for her to have cleared the corridor upon leaving, before he stepped out to attend to his own business.

 “You lost.” He spoke coldly as he entered the door to Geoffrey’s quarters. It was the first time Kay had seen his bruised servant since the competition yesterday, but he had no patience for pleasantries.

Sitting up in his bed instantly, Geoffrey just stared at him for a moment in silence, before lowering his head slightly. “As agreed.”

“Indeed.” Kay’s face broke into a smile and he crossed the room to sit on the edge of Geoffrey’s bed. “Although had I known Arthur would be so… distracted, I would never have had you loose.”

“He doesn’t suspect?”

“No,” Kay waved away the question, and reached for the bowl of fruit sitting on the table nearest the bed. “He has no doubts about you at all.”

Slapping Kay’s hand away from his breakfast Geoffrey smiled. “Who knew I could play a servant so well?”

“Yes,” Kay agreed lightly, before turning his voice dark. “It is amazing what gold can buy these days.”

“Sire,” Geoffrey bowed his head, “A Knight can not earn honour from beating a servant, so he must earn something.”

Kay paused for a moment and looked over his servant; bruises blossomed across his face, and along the neckline of his tunic. His foot was propped up, layer upon layer of bandage swelling it to double the size. The injuries as planned as they might have been looked severe. “You will beat him then?” his doubt creeping into his voice with the question.

Geoffrey seemed to fight with himself on how to respond to the suspicion of his skill. “You will get the win you paid for, do not worry.” He spoke eventually, his voice struggling to stay even.

“I…” Kay Jumped as a sudden knocking on the door, interrupted the threat he had been about to make. Scrambling to his feet, he took a breath. “Yes?” he demanded acknowledging the door. “Enter.”

As the wood slid opened Kay was dismayed to see Gaius standing there, his head bowed.

“Sire, I have come to change the binding on Geoffrey’s ankle.”

Kay narrowed his eyes at the old man, he didn’t like him, but it would seem suspicious if he didn’t accept the help offered for his servant.  “Well” he snapped, “you better get on with it then.”

***

“Arthur!” the name gasped from Merlin’s lips, as his legs pounded the grass of the training field. “Arthur…just…wait!”

Turning around to stare at him, Arthur ignored his request, and continued his same running pace, just backwards. “Come on Merlin!” he encouraged.  “We’ve only just begun.”

Merlin flinched, and not just from the threat of more exercise, but because the grin that he was sure would have accompanied those words any other day was conspicuously missing from Arthur’s face. Just as it had been since he had opened his eyes and found the prince kneeling next to his bed.

Coughing and spluttering he had scrambled across his mattress away from the cup and the foul smelling concoction Arthur held under his nose.

“Drink.” was Arthur’s only response, and he had thrust the cup forward again.  “Merlin. Training. Run. Now.” Arthur’s speech had continued in a pattern of single barked words right up until that last sentence.

Merlin couldn’t work out whether he was angry because Merlin hadn’t attended to him this morning, or because of something else that had happened that he had no knowledge of.  The first was a distinct possibility, even though the prince had told Merlin last night he was absolved of all normal duties. The later, well Merlin had no clue.

Either way, the snappy prince of this morning, reminded him little of the one he watched leave his chambers last night.

When it was decided the night had dragged into the morning far enough, saying good bye to the women had been quick. A couple of hugs that would have been awkward had they not all been embolden by the wine flooding their systems, and they were off. Laughing and giggling into the night holding each other’s hand.

Arthur’s goodbye had been an altogether more drawn out affair. He was last to his feet, and then last to the door.

 Leaning boneless against the door frame, he looked drained, but in a good way, and Merlin ruminated on the fact that exhaustion from laughing too much was a far better look on him than when he wore it after fighting for his life.

Merlin’s stance mirrored the princes exactly, as they stood attempting to say goodbye but neither achieving it. He wasn’t entirely sure who rested their head against the wood first, but with their faces turned to one another it felt as comfortable as if they were lying on Arthur’s luxurious bed, an experience which Merlin had never been privileged too, but often dreamt about as if he had.

Morgana and Gwen called Arthur’s name from the corridor, trying to hurry him up, but he seemed as reluctant to move as Merlin had felt. Continuing to banter as if they were all still sat around the table, albeit in a softer tone. 

A moment of calm descended on them, when the women silenced themselves, and the sudden intensity in Arthur’s eyes quickened Merlin’s breath. With their heads just inches away from one another’s Arthur opened his mouth.

“Merlin I...” the whisper barley crossed his lips before Morgana reappeared, obviously tired of waiting, and grabbed the prince’s hand. Unprepared for the sudden attack, Arthur was pulled stumbling away with an ease Merlin was sure he would be embarrassed about the following morning.

“Good. Night. Merlin!” Morgana’s fractured call was the only thing she left in her wake.

Merlin was pretty sure he would have been up all night wondering what Arthur had been about to say if the alcohol clouding his brain hadn’t shut his eyes almost the second Arthur had left his vision.

In fact for a second when he opened his eyes this morning and found the face he had last seen before closing them, peering at him, he wondered if no time had passed at all, and that the memories of Gaius’ gentle hands pulling him away from the door and pushing him towards his bed were just his imagination.

“Stop, Stop!” Merlin finally gave up and leant over resting his hands on his knees to try and get his breath back. Running had never been a favourite past time of his, he did it far too much when he was in danger to attach any kind of pleasure from the experience.  

“Okay fine,” Arthur spoke as his feet arrived in Merlin’s field of vision. “Maybe that’s enough.”

Merlin raised his eyes alone. “Maybe?”

“Come on then,” Arthur’s hand grabbed his shoulder and pulled him upright. “You can tell me what you know of Archery.”

Merlin screwed his face up in response. He had a headache, his limbs felt hollow, and Arthur had just run him around the training ground four times, now he was supposed to know things? Today was just getting better and better. Sighing he forced his feet to move as Arthur walked them to the corner of the field where Merlin had spied on George receiving this same training, a few days ago.

The training was hard going, and by only the third time he had pulled the bow back, Merlin was sweating and thinking fondly of the running.

“That’s good,” Arthur encouraged, as he relaxed and brought both hands back together, making sure he followed the instructions not to let go of the string. Arthur’s graphic description of one of the knights shattering his bow into a hundred splinters, one of which pieced his chest so deep it caused his death, repeated loudly in his head.

“But look at where my fingers go.” Arthur was already talking and re-pulling on his own bow before Merlin had even had a chance to flex the complaining muscles in his arms and shoulders.

Blinking against the bright sun Merlin focused on the spot along Arthur’s jaw line where his fingers rested, approximately half way between his chin and ear.

“Anything less than this, and your arrow won’t fly straight, it won’t have the power to get to where it needs too. You need to bring the string close to your face, let it touch your nose.” Arthur suddenly sighed, and relaxed his stance. “Are you even listening to me?” he demanded.

Merlin swallowed hard, and he realised his eyes had glazed over. “I err...”

Arthur just rolled his eyes, and gestured to Merlin’s bow. “Come on try again.”

Three more attempt’s and although Merlin was beginning to get used to the pull of his muscles as he pushed one hand out towards the target, and pulled the other into his face, he still couldn’t bring himself to allow the string close enough to his body for Arthurs liking.

“Try taking your shirt off.”

“What? No. Why?” Merlin was instantly shocked by Arthur suggestion, and more than a little embarrassed. 

 “You afraid of a little sun Mer-lin?” Arthur questioned, tilting his head.

Merlin reddened a little at the mocking tone. “No,” he denied shuffling his feet.

Arthur just sighed, and Merlin watched as the brief return of his humour quickly vanished. “Just try, it will help you trust the string is not going to catch on anything when you let go.”

Unable to detect anything but a genuine idea in Arthur’s voice Merlin could see no way to refuse. Placing the bow on the ground, he moved his hands to his neckerchief, and begun untying it. Not for the first time he found himself cursing his undeniable need to prove himself to Arthur. “Yeah wouldn’t want the string catching on anything but me.” He grumbled.

Arthur laughed just lightly before again stopping himself short. Twirling the arrow in his hand, Arthur reached out with it and tapped the arm bracer Merlin wore. “That’s what this is for.” He reminded him. “and besides it doesn’t hurt that much. Give you a nasty bruise maybe.”

Stripping off his shirt Merlin couldn’t deny the lack of clothing was welcome in the heat of the day. The sun had been a blessing when it appeared a month ago, but it had been so relentless, now everyone was just wishing for the storm that must be coming to hurry up and chase it away.

“Okay” Arthur moved behind him, as he stood up from laying his shirt down, and Merlin froze. He wasn’t sure if Arthur had even seen the scar’s he carried on his back, he was certain they had never spoken of them. Silently he prayed Arthur would not ask the questions he couldn’t answer about them now.

He didn’t. Instead Merlin felt one of Arthur’s warm hands rest gently in the middle of his shoulder blades.

“Pull up again.” He demanded. 

Ignoring the shivers racing across his skin, Merlin nodded and did as he was told, breathing in as he pulled the weapon apart.

“Use your shoulder muscles, not your arms.” Arthur instructions were patient and even toned. “Try and squeeze my hand with your shoulders. Good, good, and take it down.” 

Merlin exhaled as the pressure released across his body, and he relaxed the bow.

“That was much better. Now let’s try it with an arrow.” As Arthur stepped forward, Merlin felt the prince’s shirt rub against his hyper sensitive skin as he reached over him, and hooked the arrow he was holding onto the string. “You will want to let go as soon as you have it where it needs, you will have only a moment to aim, but don’t worry about that for now. We just want a clean release. Make sure the string rests right on the tips of your finger, and let it just slide off as you flick your hand over your shoulder.”

The whole time he was talking Arthur’s hands remained in contact with Merlin’s body, coming eventually to rest on his shoulders.

“Now pull up, slowly.”

As Merlin’s lifted the bow he felt Arthur’s hands slide across his skin, running down the tensed muscles in his arms. The movement brought them even closer together, and as the entire length of Arthur’s body from chest to thigh pressed into him Merlin swallowed hard. Shaking his head just gently, he tried to focus.  It didn’t help. Biting his lip he fought harder not to be distracted by the sensations flooding his entire body.

With his left hand gripping loosely around the centre wood of the bow, he pointed it out straight at the target, and his right he tucked under his chin. Creating a straight line through his body, just as Arthur had instructed.

No longer caressing down his arms Arthur’s fingers now curled around his own as they reached his hands. Pulling those that held the string further back and closer than Merlin could achieve alone. Merlin grit his teeth as his muscles complained at the extra stretch. His arm’s begun to shake. Despite Arthur’s grip he wasn’t sure he could hold the position much longer.   

“There.” Arthur whispered. His mouth so close, his lips spelt out the word against Merlin’s ear. “...and release.”

Opening his fingers out as his elbow rocked back, Merlin felt Arthur do the same, and for a second their hands void of the string held nothing but each others. Merlin was so shocked that he almost forgot all about the arrow he had just shot, right until it made a sound as it hit the target.

“HA!” Joy exploded from Merlin as his quick eyes located his arrow, and he barely noticed the loss of physical contact as he spun around to face Arthur. “I hit it!”

Merlin felt light headed as Arthur’s face split into a grin as wide as his own.  “You did!” he congratulated him, with a punch to the shoulder. “You did.”

The clapping that followed a second later surprised both of them. Turning to look for its perpetrator Merlin saw Arthur’s expression tighten as he recognised their spectator.  


	14. Chapter 14

Sitting in the cool shadows of Gaius' workroom, Merlin's hands played absent-mindedly with some of the food scattered across the long table.

Arriving back after having been dismissed from the training field by Arthur without so much as a second look, he had sat down with every intention of clearing away the mess left over from last night's party. It was probably something Gaius would ask him to do anyway, but before he had made much of a start he was already distracted, and only one plate lay piled on top of another.

Merlin had thought nothing of Morgana standing there clapping his first arrow, her sleeveless dress shinning the colour of a forest lake in the bright sun. Yet after exchanging a few pleasantries she had ruined everything with four short words.

"Your father has returned."

Arthur's face turned as dark as the worse storm cloud Merlin had ever seen. His hand dropped from where it rested, splayed across the sensitive skin at the base of Merlin's spine. His breathing increased just perceivably, and his temper returned with a vengeance.

"Leave us Merlin!" Arthur's order was barked so quick Merlin's brain took a while to process it. When it finally did he was still confused.

"Are we finished?" he questioned turning to look at his lone arrow in the target. Despite his joy at it, he hadn't expected it to be the only one.

Having turned only slightly, fearful of exposing the scars he was ashamed of to anyone else this day. He was surprised when Arthur's hands grabbed him tight enough that he could still feel them now, and forced him back to face forward.

"Don't move!" the prince contradicted his previous order, and took a couple of steps back, to snatch up Merlin's shirt from the where it lay on the floor.

Merlin couldn't help but shiver at the unspoken order to redress, as his shirt was then pressed against his chest with a tight fist. It seemed Arthur was as ashamed of his body as he was.

"Thank you." Merlin managed to force through his too tight throat, as Arthur stepped away.

Quickly pulling the shirt over his head he was amazed to find only Gwen standing in his vision by the time the material landed on his shoulders.

"What is going on?" he implored stepping towards her, as he nodded his head at the retreating backs of Morgana and Arthur.

"I'm sorry" she whispered, finally raising her eyes to him for the first time. Although he almost wished she hadn't when he witnessed the anguish etched on her face. "I can't say."

"Gwen, please." Merlin didn't like begging anymore than the next man, but he had to know what was going on. "Have I done something wrong? Arthur was so angry this morning, I thought perhaps..." he stopped he didn't really know what he thought.

"No Merlin," Gwen was quick to reassure him, reaching out to grab his hands that he hadn't even realised he was wringing in front of him. "It's not you. Trust me, it's the competition. Kay has requested an increase to the prize. Arthur is just frustrated because there is more riding on you winning than ever. Not that you need to worry about that... I mean, I know you're trying and all... I didn't mean to say..."

Merlin watched as a mixture of regret and horror slid across her face, as the colour drained from his. "There's a Prize?" He interrupted her apologising. "What is it?"

"Oh erm...," Gwen blushed now, and looked away. "It's... something Arthur values above all else." She whispered, "I'm sorry I have to go." With that she turned and ran from him, before he had even a chance to comprehend what she had said.

"What does Arthur value above all else?" Merlin repeated the question aloud in Gaius empty chambers. Gwen's cryptic words had repeated over and over in his head his whole journey from the training ground back home, and he had still yet to find a satisfactory answer. He wasn't sure what bothered him more, the fact that he hadn't known there were prizes to be won, or the fact that he obviously didn't know Arthur as well as he thought he did, if he couldn't work out what the answer was.

"Well if it's a servant that can clear a table, he's out of luck!" Merlin jumped as Gaius' voice answered, the third time he asked it of the empty room.

Spinning around to look at his mentor in the doorway, Merlin didn't remember his pitiful collection of plates until it was too late and he had sent them crashing to the floor with his elbow.

 

***

 

"Father, I want to talk to you." Arthur entered the council chambers, and didn't miss a beat before issuing his demand.

Uther's response was altogether more languid, and he didn't even look up from the papers spread across the table in front of him to issue a reply. "Cant it wait?"

"No!" Arthur snapped. "It cannot!"

When finally his father looked up and just stared at him, Arthur forced himself to take a deep breath. He had to calm down, he knew it. He had to mount this attack as dispassionately as possible or it was already lost.

Not a single memory of this day so far would help with that however. Every experience since his adrenaline filled waking had just served to force his emotions higher and higher.

Finding Merlin fast asleep, still in yesterdays, albeit now dishevelled clothes, spread eagled on top of his bed clothes, was not an experience he could forget easily. Neither was the feel of Merlin's muscles rippling under his hands as their bodies pressed into one another.

Arthur took another breath but it stuttered in his throat, as he tried to push all those memories as far away from his mind as possible.

"Well?" Uther demanded, and Arthur blinked his mind finally supplying him with the image that turned his blood to ice, that of Merlin leaving Camelot's gates never to return.

"Father," he tried to smile as he forced his feet forward, closing the distance between them. "I have seen the new terms you agreed last night. Do you really think them wise?"

Arthur winced as Uther just frowned at him in response. Okay so maybe he shouldn't have started by questioning his father's judgement. Fortunately from the way that frown lingered and Uther's eyes focused in concentration Arthur realised it was more from the effort of remembering the document Arthur was referring too, rather than his questioning of the wisdom of it.

"I have faith in you Arthur." Uther's response finally came when it seemed he had remembered.

Arthur's smile turned real for a moment, any other time and that would be welcoming news. "But it is not me that is competing father. It's Merlin." He insisted.

Uther waved his hand. "And it was he that won yesterday. I believe you worry too much Arthur."

"His win was..." Arthur had been about to say unexpected, but that seemed too cruel a word for what he meant. "...A blessing. However surely we don't want to look as if we are un-sporting, raising the stakes only after we have won. Lifetime servitude seems a little vulgar, doesn't it?"

"I wouldn't worry," Uther laughed as he reached for his goblet, "It was Kay's idea after all."

Arthur clenched his jaw at the confirmation of his suspicions.

"He asked as a favour really," Uther continued. "He wanted a more severe punishment to bolster his own servant's performance with. But think of the glory Arthur, to win under the pressure of increased rewards, it will be a fine day for you."

"And what if I lose?" the question was out before Arthur could stop it.

Uther's amusement disappeared instantly. "Then you will disappointment me, and you will pay the price."

"I cannot do that father." Arthur admitted, for a second forgetting his pledge to be as unemotional as possible. "I will not..."

Uther was on his feet with a loud scrap of his chair, and Arthur knew he had made a mistake. "You will!" he boomed. "I have agreed to terms and you will abide by them. If you have such doubts in your servant's performance perhaps you would do well to use the threat as Kay has!"

Arthur could not believe what he was hearing. "I will not threaten Merlin!"

Uther sat back down, his own rage now apparently gone as quick as it had appeared. "Then you may very well lose him."

 

***

 

"Does it matter?"

Knelt on the floor collecting the broken crockery Merlin looked up as Gaius presented him with another question. It wasn't the one he had been expecting after he had explained this morning conversation with Gwen. Frowning slightly he stared at the old man.

"Does it matter what prize Arthur is fighting for," Gaius elaborated as he sat heavily on Merlin's vacated stall. "Will it change how hard you try?"

Merlin considered the question for a moment. "No." he eventually admitted surprising himself. The denial was true. Entering the competition had never been about winning it for Arthur sake. There was an altogether more selfish motivator to Merlin's actions. He wanted to win for his own benefit. To earn the respect he so craved from the prince. That hadn't changed. He still wanted Arthur to be proud of him more than anything, which was why he knew he was already trying as hard as he could at each of the challenges. What did it matter that Arthur had something to gain out of his hard work?

"Merlin," Gaius rebuked, gently cuffing at the back of his head, to bring his attention back to the room.

Merlin blinked and looked down at the broken crockery in his hands, except it was not broken anymore. All the fragments that had been scattered there were now magically glued back together in their original form.

It had been at the back of Merlin's his mind to do that, but as his thoughts has drifted he hadn't realised his magic was acting on that half considered idea. Smiling he turned to look at Gaius, and held the plate up. "I can break it again if you want?"

Gaius rolled his eyes and got to his feet, "Next time," he grumbled, "Don't break it to begin with."

Picking up the now unbroken plates Merlin stood and placed them on the table. Although it might not matter, he was still curious what he was competing for. "Do you know what the prize is Gaius?"

"Yes." Gaius admitted with his back turned, and Merlin just stared at him eyes wide until he turned. " Oh don't look at me like that Merlin. If you had told me you were planning on competing then I would have told you before you agreed, but you didn't . You forced Arthur's hand, without knowing all the facts. How many times do I have to urge patience in you Merlin?"

Merlin was taken back; he wasn't expecting the lecture, and the underlying anger that came with it. He pouted slightly. "I deserve to know."

Gaius sighed, and smiled slightly sadly at him. "Yes Merlin you do."

Merlin paused waiting for Gaius to continue, but instead a silence spread out between them. "You're not going to tell me are you?" he guessed eventually.

Gaius confirmed that suspicion with a shake of his head, "No, but that is not my choice Merlin, if I could …"

"Well then," Merlin interrupted and took a step towards the door, his eyes travelling between the table and Gaius. Despite his own disregard of the spoils that were to be won, it seemed to mean a lot to everyone else. A fact he could take full advantage of. "If it's that important I guess I should go practise."

"Err wait a moment..." Gaius barley had time to raise his complaint before Merlin was out of the door, allowing it to slam behind him.

His good humour at escaping tidying chores kept a smile on Merlin's lips all the way down the steps to the courtyard, and out into the dying sun.

 

***

Arthur paced from the window in his quarters to the door and back again. He felt lost, unable to see what his next step should be. His father had spoken his final word on the subject, and he had no belief that he would recant, despite Morgana's promise as he had left the council chambers, that she too would appeal to him.

He was severely tempted to try talking to Kay, but he had the distinct feeling that wouldn't go any smoother than the conversation with his father.

He knew he had to do something, anything because the truth was, he didn't know how he would cope without Merlin there, messing up and generally making an idiot out of himself. It was not something he was willing to find out.

His hands made fists in frustration as he walked. If only Merlin had gone to Ealdor as Arthur had whished, and let George take his place. None of this would matter. Kay could inflate the terms as much as he liked and Arthur wouldn't have cared.

Looking up at the fading light, as he reached his window again, he suddenly felt a fool. Of course there was one sure fire way of making certain his worse fears didn't come true, and it was so simple. Merlin just had to win the next round.

Spinning he stepped towards the door, only this time there was purpose in his stride. He had someone to find.

"Where is Merlin?"

Arthur heard the very question he had been about to ask shouted out from the kitchens as he approached them. It had been many years since he had ventured down here, but he found he still knew every corridor as if he walked them regularly. That delicious mixture of cooking smells, everything from hot meat to fresh bread, hadn't changed at all. Neither had the fact that the corridor he stepped into almost instantly created sweat on his brow. The four large fires of the kitchen insured that warmth always hung in the air here, even on the coldest day.

Half forgotten memories assaulted him as he slid to stand in the shadows by the large open door; running with Morgana, when they were nothing but children to this very spot. A futile gesture of theirs to try and dry out soaking wet clothes, before they were caught. The result of a wager that had grown quicker than they had been prepared, and ended with them jumping in the moat together, both having refused to yield to the other. Stretching his mind even further back, he could remember sitting on a nursemaid's knee, this time in the middle of the kitchen. While nameless cooks fussed around him, patting at his hair, and sneaking treats into his hands, their endless chatter never ceasing for a second.

"The prince's dinner is getting cold."

"Put it on the fire, I don't know where he is."

Arthur sighed, although it seemed the frequency of that chatter he remembered had not faded in time as much as his memories of it had, it wasn't going to help him now.

Arthur had gambled on just this once Merlin being where he was supposed to be, which at this time of day was fetching Arthur's dinner, and it seemed he had lost. The only other option however had been to head to his room, and that would involve seeing Gaius. Arthur knew the old man would have a disapproving look for him. Just as he had this morning, when Arthur had admitted he still hadn't told Merlin the truth about the competitions rules. It had taken a solemn promise to remedy that by the end of the day, just to buy the old man's silence on the matter.

"I saw him earlier, out shooting them arrows."

A new voice suddenly came as the bang of a door made Arthur jump, and sink back into the shadows. Had he announced himself the moment he had arrived there would have been no problem, but the thought of being found eavesdropping on a bunch of gossipy women, made his face burn in shame. Still he couldn't help but lean forward as the original voice came again.

"Aww, bless him, I'll put some food aside in case he wants to eat as well." This voice had an air of authority to its mellow tone, and Arthur could guarantee that although she now sounded as if she was speaking to herself, all the others had an ear turned her way.

"He wont you know,"

"Well, just in case. He should eat more."

Arthur rolled his eyes at the cook's obvious fondness of his manservant. It didn't surprise him in the slightest, everyone loved Merlin. There was just something about him that brought the motherly instinct out in women, and the protective instinct out from men.

"If the prince's food dries too much, I'll send Elsie up with it. Merlin will probably catch her on the stairs anyway, he normally does."

Arthur shook his head as he turned away from the open door. So that was why Merlin could appear at his door looking as if he had just run a lap around the castle, and yet not a drop of Arthur's dinner would be spilled. Someone else brought it up from the kitchen and Merlin met them there. He would have to have words with him later, much later. There were more important things at stake now.

Although he hadn't found Merlin he had at least found where he might be. Rushing back up the stairs he headed to the training field.

The light had faded even further by the time Arthur stepped out of the castle, but that didn't slow his steps in the slightest as he rushed to the spot where he had seen Merlin last. Where he had found it almost impossible not to react to the rush of possessiveness he had felt at noticing Morgana's eyes travel to Merlin's pale body when he twisted it in the sun.

The small spark of hope already ignited deep inside him, flared as he rounded the final corner, and found he could see a silhouette standing exactly where he had hoped to see Merlin.

Even if he wanted to he couldn't have pulled his eyes away as he stepped closer and closer, willing the shadow to define itself into the familiar sharp lines and pale skin of his manservant.

Arthur froze when finally it did. By now he was so close he could have spoken Merlin's name and be heard, but he didn't. He was mesmerised as Merlin moved, unaware of his presence. Feeling for the second time today like a spy, he rocked back on his heels and just watched as Merlin retrieved an arrow from the floor, and threaded it on to the string of the bow. It seemed that Cook had been correct.  Merlin was practicing.

In the dusk Arthur's eyes were drawn to the parts of Merlin's body not covered by the thin material that passed as his excuse for clothes. Highlighted by the low light, his face and hands, seemed even more delicate than usual. For a second Arthur's most mischievous of minds teased him with the idea, of demanding Merlin remove his shirt again. Thankfully a low rumble of thunder from far away distracted him enough that the order never reached his lips.

Looking back down from where he had glanced at the sky Arthur watched Merlin pull up the bow with a grace he hadn't expected, take aim and miss the target completely. The arrow fell far short of where it needed to be.

Arthur winced, and Merlin's shoulders slumped defeated. From his vantage point Arthur could easily see what the problem was, and it was exactly what he had tried to scholar him on earlier, pulling the string back fully.

Taking only a second to think of a suitable insult as a greeting Arthur opened his mouth, and then closed it again.

Merlin was already reaching back down for another arrow. The dedication of his servant to this task created a bubble of pride in his chest.

That pride only grew as Arthur saw Merlin's hand although initially waver at the same place it had last time, pull back to a position Arthur himself would have attempted.

Arthur tore his eyes away from Merlin's tightly held shoulders and flicked them to the target. The shot looked good and he was intrigued to see how much Merlin had taught himself about aiming. Holding his breath he waited for that reassuring thud.

"Aaaaghh!"

A scream of pain that was followed by a second rumble of thunder snapped Arthur's eyes straight back to his manservant, just in time to see him crumple to the floor. Before he had even had time to guess what had happened Arthur's feet were propelling him across the distance between them as fast as they could.

Throwing himself to his knees the moment he reached the curled body, a mantra worthy of the most dedicated of druids, erupted from his lips. "Merlin, Merlin, Merlin!"

When his words elicited no response, his hands wasted no time in moving to Merlin's body, rolling him over to lie on his back.

"What have you done?" he demanded when finally he could see the boys face. "What happened...?"

Merlin eyes widened briefly in recognition of the prince before flicking down to his hand. "Arrow." He winced.

Arthur's eyes followed Merlin's, and his heart rate doubled. Sure enough, the arrow he had been so sure was good, was buried deep in Merlin's bow hand. The wooden shaft disappeared into his skin, somewhere below his thumb, only to reappear, stained red from his palm. Arthur looked away almost instantly, he wasn't squeamish, never had been, but it looked too painful an injury for Merlin to have.

"You idiot." He teased gently, desperately fighting to keep his voice steady, as he sat back, and begun to rip a strip of cloth from his own shirt. Merlin wasn't bleeding profusely at the moment. The arrow it's self prevented that. Still Arthur knew that didn't mean the injury wasn't serious. If he didn't get a tourniquet on Merlin's wrist and to Gaius quickly, he could lose his hand. Unfortunately Arthur had seen it happen to another knight, many years ago.

"Not an idiot." Merlin managed to pout around his grimace. "Was practicing. Want to win."

"Practicing?" Arthur repeated, and reached for Merlin's hand. "Practicing involves hitting the target, _Merlin_! Not yourself!"

Merlin just gasped a painful breath in response and flinched away as Arthur touched his hand. Fighting to keep his grip he began to wrap the makeshift bandage as tight as he could around the boy's small wrist.

"You're not going to win now," Arthur continued to rebuke without thinking too much, as he forced himself to ignore the whimpers of pain, his movements caused. "Kay will win and I'll lose..." Arthur stopped himself as he suddenly realised what he was saying. The fear and pain he was holding down tight twisted and kicked at him painfully.

"What?" Merlin demanded through gritted teeth.

Looking up from his work, Arthur was captured instantly in Merlin's blue eyes, shinning bright with determination, fear, and something he couldn't recognise. Staring deep into them, Arthur's throat tightened and he felt his own eyes grow wet. How could he ever live without those eyes?

"What do you lose?" Merlin repeated his eyes boring into Arthur's.

"You Merlin." Arthur forced the confession out on a quick breath before he had time to swallow it again. "If I lose, I lose you, and I can't..."

A crack of thunder erupted above them suddenly, and jumping Arthur broke from Merlin's gaze to look. Closing his eyes gently, he was relieved to feel the first drops of rain against his face. Finally the storm that had all been waiting to break the summer had arrived. Almost instantly the air felt cooler, fresher, and easier to breath.

"The storm," he smiled looking back down, to the boy in his arms, "the storm has...Merlin?" Merlin's eyes were closed, his long eyelashes rested gently against his cheeks, and Arthur felt his calm instantly disappear when they failed to open at his call. "MERLIN!"

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

Gaius stood at the bottom of his stairs, and stared out at the rain from the shelter of the doorway. The storm seemed to be growing in strength with every moment that passed. Looking around he realised he wasn't the only one watching. Silhouettes hovered in at least a dozen or so of the windows that overlooked the central courtyard. All baring witness as the previously dry stone floor was pounded into submission by the torrential rain.

Gaius found himself chuckling as many of those nameless shadows flinched away as a rumble of thunder came again. Bursting directly from the sky above, it was amplified by Camelot's architecture and echoed so loudly it sounded as if the very earth was cracking below them.

Gaius wasn't frightened so easily. He was too old. He had seen storms like this come and go, and he knew the first of the season was always a little dramatic. That didn't mean he couldn't appreciate the beauty of it. As lightening so bright, one could be fooled into thinking dawn was breaking, split open the dark sky mercilessly, he smiled. Nature truly could be a wonder to behold.

It was only when a fork of that lightning reached down from the sky to strike at Camelot itself, did Gaius take a step back. He may not have been frightened, but he did have respect. Only last year a similar strike hit one of the towers, burning the guard posted there almost beyond recognition.

With a sigh Gaius turned his back on this dangerous weather; enough was enough for one night. He had barley taken a step towards the stairs when he froze. The thunder was rumbling again, and just for a moment it had sounded like it had called his name.

"Old fool," he cursed good naturedly at himself, when after pausing for a moment he heard nothing more than the elements colliding. "Hearing things again." The thought was barley formed in his mind when the sound came again.

"GAIUS! GAIUS!"

This time it was as clear as day. His name screamed through the rain with such desperation it made his heart clench. He had heard that cry before, many times in fact, but no matter how often he heard it, the sound of someone begging for his help to save a loved one never failed to chill him.

Turning as quick as his aching bones would allow, he squinted into the night to try and find the poor owner of that pleading call.

When he did he was amazed. Never had he ever imagined to hear such a pitiful sound come from a royal throat, but as the crowned price drew closer, his reason for it became clear.

Merlin lay as still and as pale as Gaius had ever seen him, cradled in Arthur's arms, a sight sadly not unfamiliar for any of them.

"Merlin?" Fatherly concern started Gaius' feet and before he knew it he was stepping out in to the lashing rain to meet Arthur as soon as he could. "What... what happened?" he demanded as he reached the couple. Although his quick eyes moved automatically to the hand hanging limply from Arthurs grip, and the arrow piercing it, he could not believe what he saw.

"Gaius, please!" Arthur's beg brought his attention back to the prince, and he was once more surprised at the sight before him. With his clothes and hair darkened by the rain and plastered to his skin Arthur looked drowned, but he didn't even seem to notice. His jaw was clenched tightly. His eyes although shinning bright, were crinkled with sadness, and worry. He looked almost as out of control as the weather.

"You…You have to help him!" Arthur stuttered as water dripped from his long eyelashes and cascaded down cheeks Gaius couldn't swear weren't already wet before the rain had started. "He...I...Please help?"

Gaius' reassuring hand was already on the prince's arm, and leading him inside, before he finished speaking.

***

 

"Well, well, well." Standing at the window in Kay's quarters, his hand braced against the wall to ease the pressure on his swollen ankle Geoffrey watched the scene below. "It would seem Merlin found your present a little too soon." He turned to smile at Kay languishing on his bed, a goblet of wine in his hand. "My lord."

Kay was up and by his side quicker than Geoffrey would have given him credit for.

"Ugh," an ugly sound grumbled from the prince, as he too stared out the window. "Arthur."

"They must have returned to practise tonight," Geoffrey summarised.

"Hmm," Kay barley responded as he stepped away obviously lost in thought.

"At least he's injured, he'll have to forfeit tomorrow's round," Geoffrey was quick to try and reassure his prince as he followed him from the window. Kay wasn't the most even tempered person at the best of times, but when something went wrong he could be an animal until he found someone to make pay for it. "Maybe even the last one too. You may win without me having to raise a hand." He continued to reason.

Kay looked darkly at him over the rim of his goblet as he drunk again. "That would be a shame," he spoke slowly after lowering it.

Now Geoffrey was confused, surely Kay wanted to win more than anything. "My lord?"

"I had hoped to witness at least one more bruise on that servant's body, before we leave."

Geoffrey was surprised by Kays' honesty and the implication his answer held. "You plan on not beating him after he belongs to you?"

"Oh no, he will be treated the same as every other worthless servant when we arrive home, but here…" Kay smiled. "...here every bruise inflicted, strikes not only him but Camelot too." Kay suddenly set the goblet down on the table and headed for the door. "Come on," he gestured, suddenly seeming in a better mood. "Let's see if we can get that forfeit confirmed tonight, so we don't have to sit through another of my father's opening speeches at tomorrow's round."

***

"Sire…" Morgana took a deep breath, and stared directly at the king. She had sat through most of dinner with him, not even mentioning the only thing that plagued her mind, but now it was time, "I wonder…"

She paused as the king turned to look at her. His face was the picture of patience and understanding. She knew it wouldn't be like that for long. "Arthur has told me of the new terms and I…"

"My Lord!"

Uther's face had already fallen by the time she was interrupted by the call from the doorway, and the scowl that was meant for her was shot instantly at the intruder.

"Prince Kay," Uther greeted warmly, gesturing with his gloved hand for the prince to join them. His frown disappeared as quickly as it had materialised.

Morgana sighed. She had nothing against Kay, although his increase of terms had given her pause to question his character, but he was the last person she wanted to see. How was she to champion Merlin's case, under the glare of that which threatened him?

Sitting back she forced her pursed lips into a smile of greeting as Kay bowed to her.

"My Lord, my Lady. Please I apologise for interrupting your dinner."

"Our home is yours Kay." Uther smiled magnanimously. "Please join us."

Kay held his hand up, "I wont. If I may? I just came to ask if you had news of tomorrow's competition, on whether it had been cancelled."

Uther's face crinkled into confusion, and Morgana forced herself to relax her own expression as she realised it mirrored the kings exactly.

"I have no reason to believe it would be" Uther shook his head. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh my lord, you haven't heard?" Kay's face drained of colour as he stepped closer to the table. "My servant, he saw Arthur rushing to your physician's chambers, I presumed you knew something of his injury."

"Injury?" Uther repeated the word, and Morgana felt a cold shiver down her spine as Uther's chair shot back with a loud scrap. "Is my Son hurt?" he demanded.

Kay shook his head, and looked a little confused. "I know not," he admitted, "but he was seen running and shouting the man's name, I assumed..." Kay trailed off.

"Morgana excuse me, but I must go..." Morgana jumped as Uther's hand touched her shoulder, but he was too distracted to notice.

"Of course," she answered, and was amazed to get no response; looking behind her she was surprised. The king had already moved to the door.

It was times like these that she could see exactly how much he cared for his son, it was a shame however that it was only at times like this. A small part of her heart twisted in jealousy of having a father to care, but she pushed it down quickly. As weak as he viewed emotions being, Uther did favour her with as much love as to be expected from a guardian. Just as Arthur loved her like a surrogate brother should. At the thought of the prince she jumped to her feet. What had he done now?

Gesturing to Gwen to follow, she rushed after the king as quick as her skirts would allow.

***

Kneeling on the floor, next to the bed of the boy he cared for more than he knew he should, Arthur felt sick. His two large hands dwarfed Merlin's smaller one, as they held it still, and aloft, for Gaius to study. The arrow still embedded, although now lacking its feathered end, thanks to the sharp blade of his trusty boot knife, stuck out at an unnatural angle.

Finally laying his looking glass to one side, Gaius' eyes flicked to the prince, "Are you ready?" he asked gently as he moved to pull the arrow from its new home.

Arthur simply nodded in response, and moved his eyes to Merlin. How could he not be? He had already promised he would do anything it took to help. Although he knew it would cause Merlin more pain he selfishly whished the boy was awake. This unconscious version of him ate away at Arthur's soul. With his face paler than usual, and his breaths barley moving his chest, it was all too easy for Arthur to believe that he had gazed into those ridiculously blue eyes for the last time.

Looking back to the old man, having worked out it was easier to watch him, than it was to look at his servant, he found Gaius still looking at him.

"Slow and steady," Gaius repeated his earlier instructions, and finally lowered his eye's to look at what he was doing.

Arthur swallowed hard; he could do this, he could. He just couldn't watch. The sight of Merlin's swollen hand, with its flash of white, part of his own shirt, tied tightly around the wrist, was not something he would ever forget. He did not need the image of it being pulled and stretched in a way that he was sure would have the boy howling in pain if her were awake.

The first tug surprised him, and the muscle in his arms, instinctively tightened to keep Merlin's hand as still as needed. He would not be a reason for making the injury worse.

Fighting not to look, he focused on a spot on the wall, and the memory of Merlin in his arms. He had felt heavy, but not through any fault of his weight. A feather would have felt heavy to Arthur on that long walk back from the training ground. Seeing Merlin unconscious like that, his face lit unnaturally with flashes of lightening, had done something to him. Something he couldn't shake off. Even now in the warmth of Gaius' chambers, with Merlin in the best possible hands, ice rested in his stomach, sapping his strength. "Lay him on the bed!" Gaius' sharp order when they had entered the room was unneeded. Arthur wasn't convinced he could have carried him much further.

"Almost there," Gaius repeated the words Arthur had whispered to Merlin, and pulled him back to the present. As he blinked Arthur suddenly grew aware of wetness in his own hands.

Instinctively he looked to see what was happening. Blood from Merlin's wound washed over his skin, with the same motion as water breaking free from a dam. Arthur's stomach clenched violently at the sight, and he gritted his teeth together to force the retch back down his throat. So much blood, there was just so much blood. It bubbled over his own hands soaking them again and again as Gaius continued to pull on the arrow shaft.

The end of that sickening sound of flesh and wood separating couldn't come quick enough for Arthur. When finally it did he let go of the breath he hadn't realised he had been holding, and felt a dizzying rush as oxygen refilled his lungs.

Dropping what was left of the arrow to the bed, Gaius' hands moved quickly to replace Arthur's, and press freshly made poultices to either side of the puncture wound. The small white linen bundles were soaked through with red before Arthur could even blink, and the sight kicked his fear up a notch. How much blood did Merlin have? How much could he lose?

Rocking back on his heels, he could only watch in silence, as he waited for those answers. He had seen a knight bleed for days, and still carry on with the mission with barely a moan passing his lips, and he had seen a man keel over dead before the blood he lost had even managed to stain his clothing. Arthur had learnt long ago that it wasn't necessarily the wound that killed a man, more his ability to cope with it.

What was Merlin's ability? Arthur had seen him recover from poison, shake off bumps and bruises, but he had never seen him bleed before. Not like this.

Looking down at his stained hands, Arthur realised they were shaking ever so slightly, clenching them into fists, he folded them tightly across his chest, and hid the tremble. He was just cold. He lied. Unable to admit even to himself, that it was the worry for his servant's life that shook his body.

As Gaius continued to work in silence, Arthur thought of the only other man he had witnessed receive such an injury. It had been many years ago, long before Merlin had arrived. Arthur shook his head at his own thought, refusing to look at the fact that he now categorised his life as before or after Merlin's arrival.

They had been out hunting, Arthur, a couple of visiting lord's sons, who he couldn't name now, and a handful of knights. Hunting, riding, drinking, eating, all in all it had been a pretty featureless day, nothing unusual, until the accident. After the accident it was forever sealed in Arthurs mind as the last day he was ever to ride out with a full bow by his side. The crossbow became his weapon of choice and he had never looked back.

Leaning forward Arthur was amazed to see Gaius' hands shaking just gently as his had been, as he reached for the needle and thread he had left close.

"Do you remember Sir Bors?" Arthur asked out loud, looking away again, but finding only the image of the injured knight in his head.

"This is not like that." Gaius answered almost immediately, not moving his head. "That was a broadhead he shot through his hand Arthur; it shattered the bones, and ripped every muscle. There was nothing I could do for him."

Arthur nodded his head, even though Gaius wasn't looking. He remembered it well, that tangled mess of flesh and bone. Entirely the fault of the extra large arrow head Arthur commissioned especially for his arrows. Even to this day he still didn't know how one of his own arrows had got mixed in the bag with those of the much larger knight.

"This was only a target point," Gaius continued and Arthur looked at the head of the arrow, lying on the bed next to Merlin. The point, small and rounded was indeed designed only to hold the arrow in a target, not to cause any kind of wound. "He won't... he won't lose his hand."

Arthur leant forward as Gaius' voice stumbled. It was clear the old man had considered the possibility. It had been the least of Arthur concerns however. "Will he wake though?" he demanded the only question that really mattered.

Gaius did turn to look at him this time, "I..."

"ARTHUR!"

Arthur jumped as the booming call of his name echoed around the room, in the same way the thunder had been doing all night. On his feet in an instant, he turned to the doorway, and to stare at the owner of that voice. "Father, I ...?"

Uther rushed at him as if he hadn't seen him for weeks, and grasped at his hands.

"Arthur what happened? Are you injured? Gaius?" The king looked at the physician as if needing confirmation to an answer he had yet to receive.

Arthur was confused. He looked from his father's face to that of Kay's hovering just behind. Why was he here? What was going on?

"Answer me." Uther demanded, pulling on his hands. "What has happened?"

Arthur shook his head, and returned his gaze to the king. "Nothing. I am fine."

Uther's gaze dropped down to Arthur's hands, and Arthur suddenly remembered how they looked covered with Merlin's blood. "Oh that's not mine," he was quick to reassure. "It's Merlin's he..." Uther dropped Arthur's hands the moment he heard the servant's name.

"Merlin!" Another voice called from the doorway, and looking up Arthur saw Morgana and Gwen pushing their way past Kay to rush to the servant's side.

"What happened?" Morgana now demanded.

"An accident," Arthur admitted. "We were training and..." he trailed off. That wasn't quite the truth. If he had he been training with Merlin, then he wouldn't have allowed this to happen.

"Is this just another excuse Arthur?" Kay questioned. "If you were unprepared for this competition perhaps you could have said so to begin with. I guess you will want another day of rest now?

"Yes," Arthur's instant response was spoken over by the kings.

"No."

"Father!"

Uther took a step towards Arthur the concern that was shinning in his eyes as he arrived was long gone, now his face was twisted in anger. "Your servant will compete, Arthur, or you shall forfeit. We will not disrespect the house of Limpnee any further by asking for another day."

Arthur was speechless.

"Merlin will not be able to compete tomorrow." Gaius spoke stepping forward now. "His injuries are too severe."

Uther turned to look at Kay. "Then we forfeit. Congratulations Kay the second round is yours."

Having spent so many days worrying about losing Merlin into service of the other prince, only to have him possibly stolen by an accident was more than enough for Arthur, but the idea of the king just giving him away was too much. "NO" he argued. "You can't do that, I won't..."

Uther's face darkened even further and Arthur used the last of his self control to tighten his throat and halt his words, before he got himself into anymore trouble.

"Then it is settled." Uther concluded with a nod that kicked hard in Arthur's stomach, and turned away.

"Don't worry Arthur," Kay spoke softly leaning towards the fellow prince. "I'm sure he will be well enough for the final duel, and if not well..." Kay broke off to look across at Merlin, "maybe I'll bring him back to visit you next year, if he's still alive of course."

Arthur's anger boiled and the only thing that stopped his bloody fist connecting with Kay's jaw, was Morgana's hand pulling on his arm at the last moment.


	16. Chapter 16

As the bright dawning sun streamed through the high window of his bedroom, Merlin rolled his head against a soft pillow and unconsciously moaned gently. Despite the new day, he was as unaware of his surroundings as he had been all night.                                                                                                          

In the darkness of his sleep a thousand images swarmed and swirled around each other, some new, some old, some real, some only the imaginations of a fevered mind. Merlin swam through them all as he fought against the returning consciousness. 

Those that tugged hardest at his heart were the sad ones, the goodbyes. His mothers face as she had waved goodbye to him that very first time when he had left for Camelot. It was a sight he would never forget. In amongst the sadness and regret there was the smallest hint of relief, and hope.

“Take care my boy,” her last words whispered into his ear as she held him so tight he wasn’t sure she would let go again. “Be safe.”

He hadn’t even reached the edge of the village when he looked back, even though she had made him promise he wouldn’t. Some days he almost wished he had stuck to that vow. The tears streaming down her face highlighted by the large moon tore holes in his heart he wasn’t sure could ever be fixed.  

He had at least seen her again and she lived, happily as far as he was aware, with a lot less trouble than when he had been by her side, he was sure.

Other goodbyes were that much more final or had at least seemed so. William for example, his only childhood friend, died in his arms, because despite all of the magic Merlin possessed he could not find a way to save him.

 Gaius had seemed dead in his arms as he had cradled him on the isle of the blessed, after Nimueh’s attack. With his friendly face pale, his body crumpled and still.

Those memories no matter how upsetting were nothing compared to the ones of Arthur, and his goodbyes. Nothing hurt Merlin more.  Whether it was seeing Arthur’s eyes shine with his own stupid sense of duty, before turning to the business of giving his own life willingly or hearing his gasping breath as he fell unwilling from the attack of an enemy it didn’t matter. He could cry over Arthur’s deaths until his tears drowned not only himself but all of Camelot. A world without Arthur was not a world Merlin was willing to live in.

Thankfully when he thought of Arthur he had a thousand more memories and images to hide those most painful ones. Every single day since his arrival in Camelot a little under a year ago, had involved an encounter with Arthur somehow. At first he had been resentful of that intrusion into his life by the then unknown prince, but now...now he wouldn’t have it any other way. He lived for Arthur, to be by his side, to breathe the same air as him. Every single touch between them was filed away in Merlin’s mind for times just like this, times halfway between awake and asleep.

Now with the horrors of goodbyes chased away by thoughts of Arthur, only a single image remained in Merlin’s head. One he could see so vividly, and feel so solidly, yet was certain had never happened.

He could feel the cobbled stone of the courtyard beneath his feet, a cold draught whispering down his bare neck. As he looked down he could see his own pale fingers interlaced with Arthur’s tanned ones, as both of them stood there, gripping each other tight as if their very lives were dependant on it.  

Had that truly ever happened? Such a small but meaningful connection between them? Had they ever held hands purely just for the feel of it? Merlin was confused, he rolled his head once more against the pillow, reality nagged stronger now, but he fought to keep hold of the memory. He needed to see more, to see if it was a truth. Squeezing his eyes tight and ignoring the low rumble of rhythmic thunder he could hear, he watched as  in the memory Arthur pulled on his hand as if too lead him somewhere. _“Merlin come on,”_ The princes voice was as clear as day. _“I’m getting wet.”_ But still Merlin felt himself hold back, to resist that tugging.

With consciousness flooding back to his body as quickly as it was to his mind, Merlin’s injured hand twitched under its bandages, mimicking the movement in his mind.

The pain that small movement brought ripped a scream from Merlin’s throat before he even knew why. His eyes burst open, and he gasped for breath.  Every ounce of sleep burned away by the fire sweeping up his arm. Someone was trying to sever his hand with a hot blade, he was certain of it. The pain was like no other. He flinched trying to pull away from whatever it was that was hurting him so, but it only made the pain worse. He gasped for breath again, but his chest was so tight it barely made a difference. His head was spinning. His vision blurred.

 “Merlin? Merlin!”

Before his eyes even had time to adjust to the sudden brightness a shadow appeared above him. Was that who was hurting him so?  He tried to think of magic, something to save himself, but his mind was so cloudy. He was too full with pain and fright, if he used magic now it would be far too powerful for him to control.  

“Merlin, Merlin, Merlin,” His name came again, and again, from the man above him. Slowly it broke through the fog, as the wave of pain ebbed. The voice was full of concern, not threats. Desperately he willed himself to focus.

“Shh, calm.” the voice came again, a tender note underlining the fear in it this time. A hand he hadn’t noticed gripping his shoulder moved to stroke against his cheek, as he blinked.

 “I’m okay,” he whispered, finally still enough to calm the pain, and fill his lungs. Turning his head he mouthed the words against that rough hand cupping his face. “It’s okay Arthur, I’m okay.”

The relieved sigh that burst from the prince above him mirrored his own, as his eyes begun to move around the room, and he recognised it as his own.

Gods what had happened? As Arthur’s hand dragged away from his face, Merlin tried to remember why exactly he had woken screaming in the first place. He remembered being on the practise field, he remembered shooting arrows, he remembered... the pain... the accident, the worry in Arthur’s eyes as he knelt next to him.

“I’m okay.” He repeated, flooded by embarrassment for his early panic, and guilt for causing such a look on the prince’s face. Moving to sit up he was assaulted with another wave of pain emanating from his hand, and he couldn’t stop a groan.

“Will you stop moving?” Arthur ordered good naturedly, and through the fog Merlin watched as a small smile blossomed across his tired face. “I swear you’re like a wildering on heat or something.”

Merlin frowned but before he had time to challenge the unfair comparison, another person appeared in his sights.

 “Merlin.”

“Gaius.” He smiled pleased to see his mentor.

“You’re awake.” Gaius grinned, his own relief at that fact not hidden. “How do you feel?”

Merlin winced at little, and pulled a face. “Tired,” he admitted a little sheepishly. It seemed a strange thing to admit, considering he had just woken, but he felt as if his bones were aching. “My arm hurts.”

“Because you keep moving it,” Arthur added helpfully.

Gaius ignored the prince and immediately held out a small green bottle to Merlin. “Take this.” He ordered in his best physician voice. “It will dull the pain. I need to check your bandages.”

Knowing better than to not do as he was told, Merlin swallowed the liquid immediately. It was warm, and slightly minty, something in it made his throat tingle.  Almost immediately a numbness sweep through him with a speed that made him suspect it was more than just herbs in that bottle.  

Whatever it was the relief of it closed his eyes just for what felt like just a heartbeat, but by the time he looked back up, Gaius had pulled a stool close, and Arthur was beating a retreat to the door.

“I’m just going to go...” Arthur pointed to the other room, but trailed of as he caught Merlin’s gaze.

Merlin just smiled, and watched as Arthur ran a hand through his dishevelled hair, before disappearing the way he had pointed.              

Suddenly an absurd theory occurred to Merlin. His eyes snapped straight to Gaius, unable not to ask the question. “Has Arthur been here all night?”

“He has.” Gaius confirmed with a distracted nod of his head, not even bothering to look up.

“You let him sleep here? In my room?” Merlin fought to keep his voice a whisper as the shock answer assaulted him. Gingerly he moved to look around, and found no sign of a bedroll or chair. “On the floor?”

“Merlin.” Gaius rolled his eyes. “The prince does whatever he wishes. It was not my choice, or yours to make.” Merlin just stared at him. “Besides short of getting the guards to carry him out of here, there was very little I could do.”

Merlin sat back, contemplating that. Arthur had stayed, with him, all night. He wasn’t sure why, but that fact warmed his belly more than Gaius’ potion. Slowly his mind drifted back to the dream he had been having. That of Arthur guiding him through the castle courtyard.. Slowly he shook his head; it must have just been some kind of distortion of the night’s real events. He couldn’t think of any real time he had been out in a rainstorm without his neckerchief.

“Well how is he?” Arthur’s voice as he re-entered the room snapped Merlin’s attention back, and he smiled at the fact that the prince looked a little more presentable now. He had obviously at least thrown water at his face.

“He’ll live but...” Gaius stood up, and stared directly at the prince. “He won’t be using that hand _anytime_ soon.”

Gaius’ words seemed to have a strange emphasis on them, but Merlin was too tired to try and work out why. For the first time he looked down at his injured hand. Fresh white gauze encircled it. Neat and tidy it was the perfect example of Gaius’ skill, but no clean bandage could hide the severity of his injury. Dark bruises painted painful patterns on his skin where it emerged from the bindings. The vivid purples and blacks were only broken up by tracks of dried blood weaving their way around his arm. Perhaps even more obvious however was the fact that his hand seemed swollen beyond compare, to at least three times the size of the other. No wonder it had hurt so much when he tried to move it. Desperately he ignored the compulsion to twitch it again, and test his limits.

Looking up for a distraction, he found the backs of his companions facing him.  Gaius was leaving the room watched by Arthur.

When the prince failed to turn from the empty doorway, Merlin called for him. “Arthur?”

“Hmm?” The response was distracted, but he did at least turn to look.

Merlin took a deep breath. There was so much he wanted to say to his prince, but only two words seemed appropriate right now. “Thank you.”

Arthur just paled. It wasn’t the reaction Merlin had been expecting.

“Merlin,” Arthur sighed, and Merlin felt the room turn cold. Normally he loved the way Arthur said his name, but this time there was something ominous about it, it was almost too gentle. “What do you remember of yesterday? After... after your accident? Do you remember what I...” Arthur cleared his throat. “What I told you?”

Merlin thought for a second before his eyes grew wide. “Me.” He whispered, as the memory of Arthurs confession came back. “The prize, it’s me isn’t it?”

Arthur nodded tiredly, and sat heavily on Gaius’ stall. “It is.”

Merlin shuffled on the bed to sit up more. Grateful for that painkiller Gaius had given him. He didn’t understand this at all. “Why...why would you agree to that? Do you want me to leave?”

 “It’s just the tradition.” Arthur shrugged, ignoring his last question.

“Tradition?” Anger suddenly bubbled in Merlin. He could understand if this ridiculous sentence had come about because of some drunken wager one night, but to be a tradition! “You mean you’ve traded other servants away?”

Arthur just nodded, without even as much as a disapproving look at Merlin’s angry tone.

“I am not your possession to give away!” Merlin’s words came as he thought of Arthur’s declaration in his chambers a few nights ago, and then the repeat of it in the stables. Suddenly he felt so stupid at the pride which had flooded his system when Arthur had claimed him, as his.

“No. You’re my servant. If I order you to work for another you are bound to do it.” Arthur finally found a voice to defend himself, even if frustration seemed to be lacing his every word.

Merlin’s eyebrows raised, “And you would order me to do this?”

Arthur finally turned to look into Merlin’s eyes, having thus far been looking everywhere but. “If I lose, I won’t have a choice but to. My father will...”

 “How long?” Merlin interrupted, he knew all too well Uther’s attitude to things. “How long must I be in service to him?” When Arthur just stared at him fright slithered through Merlin. “Arthur how long?”

“Forever.”

“Forever?” The word stuck in Merlin’s throat, as panic began to rise.  “No, no I didn’t agree to this, I am not a slave.”

Arthur dropped his eyes. “You agreed when you signed that document with my name, you signed away your service.”

“My service?” Again Merlin repeated Arthur’s words, as he struggled to comprehend them.  “Is that all I’m here for?” he questioned. “Am I just a replacement for your last servant? A placeholder for your next? You told me he had to leave Arthur, was it because you told him too?”

“I did lose last year.” Arthur admitted, “and Freddie was the prize.”

“So you sent him away! Away from family and friends, and all he knew?” Merlin was jumping to conclusions he knew it, but it was unlikely there was no one to have cared for Arthur’s previous servant.

Arthur rose to his feet, obviously disturbed by the accusation. “He went willingly, he knew the risk!”

 “Does Geoffrey?” Merlin thought of his fellow servant, and competitor.

Arthur shrugged. “I would guess so, it is not a secret. But what Kay has chosen to tell him, is down to him.”

Merlin looked down. It may not have been a secret to anyone else, but it had been to him. Suddenly his head snapped up, a new accusation occurring to him. “You wanted to sacrifice George to this?”

“To save you!” Arthur snapped.

“I don’t need saving!”

Arthur’s eyes looked down to Merlin’s hand. “That’s not what it looks like.”

Merlin sat up, and ignored the barb and the spinning of his head with the same degree of passion. Slowly he moved his legs to swing his feet around, as if to get up, ever careful not to jolt his hand too much.

 “No, what are you doing?” Arthur pushed him back gently, and as pain washed through him, Merlin couldn’t bite back the hiss quick enough, to stop Arthur from paling further.

“I have a round today.” He spoke when he finally prised his teeth from his lip. “Do you not require me to compete?”

“Merlin,” Arthur groaned.

“Although I guess you win either way don’t you?” Merlin looked up, his eyes blazing with anger almost purely stoked into being by his pain. “If you lose you get rid of me, if you win, you get to replace me.”

“Merlin!” Arthur almost shouted his name his own anger showing now. “It is not like that. I have already forfeited today. I will do whatever I need to stop tomorrow. I don’t want to lose you.” Arthur’s fingers ghosted over the back of Merlin’s good hand, as it was still gripping the edge of the bed. “I don’t.”

At Arthur’s touch both the raging anger and pain faded, and Merlin felt the tiredness creep back into his body.

Merlin sank back against his pillows a little and they both lapsed into silence. Arthur withdrew his hand a few moments after he should have done.

“What is tomorrow?” Merlin eventually questioned, only when Arthurs touch had been absent long enough for him to think straight again.

Arthur looked to be struggling on what to tell. “A sword fight in the arena, the first to draw... blood from the other wins.”

 “I can do that,” Merlin nodded, “I can!” he repeated at Arthur’s disbelieving looking. “I am not as weak as you see me Arthur. Besides if I can avoid you... mostly in training. I very much doubt if a fellow servant is as quick, If he is... perhaps you have more to worry about than me!” his attempted levity falling flat.

“Merlin, I don’t want you to fight at all.” Arthur’s hand was back reaching across the bed sheets, looking for some kind on contact.

Merlin reached out, and looked into Arthurs eyes the moment their hands touched. “What other choice do I have?”  

***

 

“What other choice do I have?” Merlin’s question repeated in Arthur head as he left Gaius chambers later that day.

It hurt him to see Merlin mewing with pain every time he had attempted to move, to watch him growing paler as Gaius’ morning tonic had worn off, until he had to fetch the physician to give him another. But despite those and at least a dozen other images of Merlin in pain from last night, that he could well do without; it was that question that was nagging in his head.

The answer was none, of course. Merlin had no other option than to fight and attempt to win, if he wanted to stay, but that didn’t mean Arthur had no other option.

Merlin had also questioned him on why he hadn’t fought harder for his other servants, why he had ever thought it was okay to destroy someone else’s life just for the chance at some glory. Why it had never been a problem until this year, and even then if it had only been George at risk, would Arthur still not have viewed having a person as a prize unsavoury at best. Those questions didn’t have such simple answers. Arthur suspected they had something to do with the fact that during their whole time speaking, Merlin had never once showed any concern for himself, of what his treatment would be like at the hands of Kay should he lose. Not to mention the fact that never before in his life had Arthur felt the need to stay and watch someone sleep just to make sure they were still breathing.

Stalking across the courtyard Arthur headed to the guest wing, and for the second time in as many days strode straight into Kay’s room, without so much as a knock. 

“Arthur.” Kay greeted as he looked up from where he was sat at the table. Failing to look even the slightest bit put out by the intrusion. “How is your servant?”

Arthur took a deep breath, the last thing he wanted to do was talk to Kay about Merlin, and yet it was the very thing he was here to talk about. “The competition Kay, I want you to withdraw.”

Kay laughed out loud as he stood up, “You are better humour tonight, than yesterday.” he teased, and begun pour wine into two goblets from the jug on his table.

Arthur took the cup as it was handed to him, and stood it straight back down again. “I want you to withdraw.” He repeated.

Kay eyed him for a moment. “You’re serious?”

“I am,” Arthur nodded. He could not withdraw; he knew that, his father would never let him. If he forfeited he would still lose Merlin. This was the only other choice Arthur could think off. The only way Merlin wouldn’t have to fight, wouldn’t have to bleed again.

“And why on earth would I want to do that?”

 Arthur laid both his hands on the table. Looking down at them he noticed one still had smears of Merlin’s blood staining it. His quick wash in Gaius’ chambers hadn’t been as successful as he had thought.  “I will give you anything you want Kay.” He swore. “Just ask it of me.”

Kay raised his eyebrows, “Anything?”

 


	17. Chapter 17

Arthur stood outside the Pendragon tent, and stared up at the slowly brightening sky. Dawn had only just about broken, and he couldn’t remember the last time he had been up this early. Rising alone hadn’t been nearly as hard as he had expected. Probably helped by the fact that he hadn’t been able to achieve sleep last night anyway. Kay’s impossible ultimatum had put pay to that.

Taking a last deep breath of the fresh morning air, he stepped in to the tent, and into a scene he knew so well.  He had spent so many years of his life standing on fresh hay, surrounded by bright canvas, readying himself for a coming challenge. Tournaments, jousts, or whatever the competition, his father always left him in no doubt that he must win. Today however was different, although his competitive streak was just as strong, today for the first time, he was nervous.

Blinking his eyes to encourage them to adjust to the gloom of inside, he suddenly realised he wasn’t as alone as he had been expecting.

“Merlin!”Calling out his servants name made the boy jump and spin around so fast it drained the colour from his already pale face. Worried Arthur rushed forward and tried not to look like he was readying to catch him if he fell.

“Arthur,” Reaching out Merlin gripped the edge of the table with his good hand, and just grinned back at him. “What are you doing here?”

At the absurdity of the question Arthur completely forgot to be outraged by it. “What am I? What are you?

Merlin nodded to the buckled sword on the table and the thin chainmail shirt lying next to it. “Getting ready.” He stated the obviously. “I couldn’t sleep.” He added nervously, and Arthur realised he was still staring at him. 

Shaking his head and tearing his gaze away, Arthur sighed. “That makes two of us.” He admitted quietly, with half a hope not to be heard.

Stepping forward he looked at the weapon Merlin had pointed to. Desperate for something to distract him from how good it felt to see Merlin up and about again, even if his injury still looked undeniably painful. “This is pitiful,” he laughed, as he picked up the sword, and twisted it in his hand, testing the weight. “I will send someone to get you something better.”

“Arthur,” Merlin’s voice was soft and gentle, and the prince felt his chest tighten at it. “I’ve been thinking. If I am to lose today, who will replace me?”

Arthur continued to turn the sword over and over in his hands, unable to look at his servant, unwilling to consider the question.

“Arthur? I was thinking George is not such a bad...”

Arthur dropped the sword heavily to the table, silencing Merlin immediately. He would not listen to this and he would not discuss it. Slowly he moved his hands to run across the chainmail. “A fight requires confidence as well as skill Merlin, do not misplace yours before you need it.”

“Confidence?” Merlin repeated the word as if he didn’t understand it. “Do you have confidence in me Arthur?”  

“Merlin,” this time Arthur did turn, only to find his servant unable to look at him, almost as if afraid of the answer. Stepping forward he reached out, and with a single finger pressed under Merlin’s chin tilted his head back, until their gazes locked.  “You are the worst servant I have ever had” He paused and smiled as he felt Merlin’s hand stroke up his arm and grasp him gently at his wrist. “and I believe you will try,” Arthur whispered what he knew to be the truth, for he had never seen Merlin not try his best at something, even if it was in his own clumsy, incapable way. “but...” Arthur couldn’t stop his eyes travelling to Merlin’s injured arm that he carried bandaged against his chest. “I do fear it won’t be enough.”

Merlin’s eyes followed his, and for a moment they both just stared at the injury.

“and if it wasn’t for this?” Merlin whispered, and then hissed as he twitched his swollen fingers. “What then?  Would you trust me to win?”

Arthur swallowed hard; there was a fine line between truth and brutality. Thankfully he was saved from walking it when the voice of another surprised them both.

“Merlin, I came to help...”

As he spun he knew he should be grateful for the speed Merlin dropped his hand, as he snatched it away, yet it was a strange mix of disappointment and loss that kicked hardest as their physical connection was severed. Forcing those emotions down he was relieved that the person standing in the doorway was exactly the kind of person he wanted to see.

“Ah George,” He smiled at the guard, and watched the confusion flickered on his face. “I want you to go to Sir Leon, get him to give you the best sword from the armoury, for someone of Merlin’s size, and when you have it I want you to get us two breakfast plates.” Arthur paused to look at Merlin. “I presume you haven’t eaten?”

Merlin just shook his head.

Desperate not to return to the highly charged conversation of before, Arthur immediately launched into last minute training and advice upon his exit. He broke from it only at Georges return, and the appearance of the breakfast Arthur had requested. Although as they sat at the small table Arthur wasn’t sure why he had even made the request, he couldn’t face the food anymore than it seemed Merlin could. Picking at and playing with his food Arthur watched as Merlin did the same, with one hand.

“You’re not going to be able to hold a shield, with that hand.” he said breaking the silence as the thought occurred to him.   

“I know,” Merlin mumbled back around the food in his mouth. “We could tie it on?”

“Hmm,” Arthur wasn’t keen on the idea, but he could see no other way, and he was even less keen on the idea of Merlin going into the arena without a shield. “Maybe.” He muttered and looked back down at his plate. His gaze didn’t rest there for long, as it was snapped back up by the sound of approaching footsteps.

“Merlin? Merlin?” a familiar voice accompanied them. “Merlin, I have been looking all over for you,” As Gaius stepped in to the tent, Arthur could see it was the truth. His face was red and flustered. “I was worried.”

Arthur felt a twinge of jealousy at such easily shown fatherly affection, and just sat back to watch as Merlin smiled slightly sheepishly at the physician.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Merlin gave the same answer as he had to Arthur. “I wanted to get ready.”

“Ready?” Gaius’ ever incredulous eyebrows rose to their highest possible point. “You’re not going through with this are you?”

Merlin just shrugged and getting to his feet reached for his new sword.

Arthur turned away. He couldn’t watch this. He couldn’t see the same argument played out in front of him that had run through his mind all night. Without a word he slipped back outside to the morning sun, and slunk down to sit on the dewy grass.

Closing his eyes he allowed the tiredness to overtake him. _“Don’t forget to say goodbye”_ Kay’s voice whispered in his head, tearing at his soul.

“Sleeping on the job Arthur?” Morgana’s voice broke through his daze, and opening his eyes he found her baring down on him. “I doubt you would allow Merlin such luxuries.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “That’s where you are wrong Morgana. Merlin sleeps through most of the jobs I give him.”

As her fake smile disappeared altogether, he realised his humour was mistimed.

“Well perhaps you will not have to suffer for much longer.” She snapped and swept past him in to the tent.

Arthur’s face fell. Was it truly not clear to everyone how little he wanted this to happen? How hard had he worked to not let it? How far would his world fall if it did? His feelings where so clear in his head, so clear in his heart, whether he could admit to them or not, he didn’t understand how they were not written across his face for everyone to see.

“I know you will save him.” Gwen whispered her open smile completely without malice as she hurried after her mistress. “He is not like the others.”

Arthur let his head rock back and his eyes shut again, as she disappeared from view. No Merlin wasn’t like the others, and wasn’t that the whole problem to begin with.

Morgana’s visit was shorter than Arthur had expected, and once again she caught him with his eyes shut, as she passed. Fortunately she was lady enough not to tease him about it again.

 “He is asking for you.” She snapped at Arthur, and that was all the prince needed to dig deep into his energy reserves and find his feet again.

Stepping back into the tent to find Merlin smiling at him, in that chainmail shirt that just emphasised his small frame, Arthur’s heart twisted painfully. Breathing deeply he forced away the rising panic at the realisation it could be the last time he was going to see that smile.  

 “Erm...will you help me with this?” Merlin asked a little shyly after a moment or two.

Arthur nodded in agreement, because right now there was very little he would deny the boy. Picking up the shield Merlin was gesturing at, he threw it to the floor. Stepping around Merlin he picked up one of his own shields, and held it out to him.

“This will do you better.” He nodded, and gestured for him to hold his arm out.

Arthur watched as Merlin’s eyes travelled across the red shield and the golden dragon emblazed upon it. “I can’t,” he stuttered, “That’s...”

“It is a shield of Camelot,” Arthur answered, keeping his voice as matter of fact as he could. He knew exactly why Merlin hesitated, and it was warranted, his father would have a fit when he saw the serving boy carrying it, but Arthur didn’t care anymore. “You fight for me, you shall wear my crest.”

Merlin nodded silently, and held his arm out as best he could, having to visibly bite back the pain the simple movement created.

 Arthur’s mind spun as his fingers moved gently around and across Merlin’s body, tying knots he had misgivings about. Could he do this? Could he send Merlin out to get more hurt? Or should he just give in to Kay? “Merlin If you were to leave today,” He spoke quickly before he thought too much about the words. “Would you rather it through your own actions, or mine?”

Merlin’s head snapped up to look at him, his ridiculously deep eyes burning with intrigue. “Arthur?”

Arthur suddenly shook his head, what had he been thinking? “Never mind, forget it.” He whispered, and was extremely grateful as a trumpet sounding stopped Merlin from questioning him further.

“It’s time.” Gaius announced with as much joy as giving a terminal diagnosis, as he strode towards them.

With a deep breath Arthur pulled tight the strap holding the shield to Merlin’s forearm, and forced a smile “There,” he pronounced. “You are ready.”

As Merlin captured his eyes, and swallowed hard for what seemed like the hundredth time that day, Arthur fought to keep the small amount of breakfast he had forced down from making a return. 

The fear in Merlin’s eyes was tangible but Arthur wasn’t sure whether it was because of pain from his current injury and concern about ones he was yet to receive.  

 “I...” Merlin’s throat sounded as dry as Arthur’s as the boy began to speak.

“Don’t” Arthur held his hand up quickly and shook his head. He would not do it. He would not allow a goodbye, or gods forbid a thank you. He just needed a win. It was the only thing Merlin could give him today that would mean anything.

Merlin just nodded, in acceptance of the order, “Sire.” He whispered, and it was almost enough to make Arthur come undone there and then. But before he could even react Merlin was turning from him and stepping out of the safety of their canvas quarters.

Gritting his jaw, as if it were him stepping out to the challenge, Arthur followed his servant.

“I am not happy about this Arthur.” Gaius spoke as plainly as he dare, the moment Merlin was out of earshot.

Arthur reluctantly tore his eyes from Merlin to look at the old man, who with the luxury of being able to show his worry, had his face pinched and frowning accordingly.

 “Do you honestly believe I am?” Arthur’s words came out sharper than he intended, but as he turned towards the seating area, and Merlin stepped on to the arena floor, diplomacy was the last thing on his mind.

***

 

Standing on the field Merlin couldn’t tear his eyes from the royal stand. Arthur was seated in his usual spot between his father and Morgana, and the speeches were beginning. Just like last time he couldn’t bring himself to pay attention to any of the meaningless words spilling from the kings.

His mind was focused on the task ahead. Winning, he had to win. Although the reason for that desire was long past his original naive hope to impress Arthur, the act required was the same.  Looking sideways he sneaked a glance at Geoffrey. The fellow servant, looked cool, calm, focused, almost as if he walked into these kinds of fights every day. Merlin winced. He had hoped they could have at least smiled and joked over the ridiculousness of the situation they were in, but it seemed that small bond he had thought they had forged in the forest was long gone. Perhaps it was being part of Kay’s household that forbid him from any kind of friendliness or perhaps his desire to win was stronger than Merlin had supposed but either way, when the first bell tolled and he turned to Merlin with his face completely devoid of emotion, and raised his sword, Merlin felt his confidence drain away.

With his sword arm raised above his shoulder, and the weapon pointed directly at Merlin, Geoffrey had the poise of a knight as he waited for the second bell.

Well this was it. Forcing himself not to send one last look up to Arthur, Merlin took a deep breath and attempted to emulate the position. After a mere moment however, his arm began to shake. The sword was heavy. Heavier than his original one he had found.  

Biting his lip, he held back on the magic flowing so strongly just below the surface of his skin, begging to help. He had made his promise long ago. This fight would be honest, it would be true, he would prove himself or he would... lose Arthur. The realisation of the enormity of it all suddenly struck him and crushed his chest, just as the second bell rang.

Geoffrey came barrelling at him before he had even taken a breath. Stumbling back, Merlin just about managed to side step the first blow.

His sword moved automatically to where it needed to be to match the next swing, and the next.

Just for a breath he was almost impressed with himself. All those training sessions with Arthur had obviously taught him something, even if it was just how to read an opponent’s moves quick enough to block them.   

Even though all the movements so far were relatively simple, his head was already spinning and he knew he wouldn’t be able to continue for long. He needed this over as quick as possible. If Gaius and his lecture on blood loss and the healing time a body needed after injury where to be believed, the adrenalin he was currently feeling would not keep him going for long.

Moving sideways away from the next strike, in an imitation of one of Arthur’s moves, Merlin found himself facing Geoffrey’s unguarded side.

Raising his sword for his own hit, he swung down and bounced his blade off Geoffrey’s shield, as the fellow competitor parried him. The strong vibrations from the clash almost numbed his arm instantly.

As the crowd gasped and cheered, Merlin just fought to keep his fingers curled around his sword’s hilt. He was certain Arthur would never let him live it down if he just dropped it. Concentrating for just a moment on him-self Merlin failed to notice Geoffrey was still moving until it was too late.

The larger servant’s sword was slicing at his chest, and there was little Merlin could do. His sword could not swing around to block it in time, and he could barley even move his shield arm.

Wincing he waited to feel the sharp edge against his chainmail. It never did. At the last second, Geoffrey’s hand twisted his sword, and the blunt side of it smacked into his ribs.

Merlin stumbled back, winded but not bleeding.  Bent double he once again failed to see Geoffrey’s approach, until a fist holding a jewelled handle found his jaw.

Forced upright by the punch Merlin gasped for a breath. Impulsively he brought his shield round in front of him, to protect from whatever was coming next. It was a stupid idea; he knew it the moment he did it. Gaius had warned him not to try and use the shield, Arthur had practically threatened him not to.

As if the moving of his swollen arm didn’t cause him enough pain, he saw a flash in Geoffrey’s eyes that told him what was coming next.

Geoffrey’s shield crashed into his with a loud crack, and Merlin barley restrained from screaming.

Blackness edges his vision instantly, and his magic screamed at him for release. Merlin had time to give in to neither, as his legs bucked below him, and Geoffrey shoved him with all his weight.

Merlin barley felt anything as his body slammed into the hard ground below. Flames of pain licked along his arm, and he could swear he could feel his flesh being torn open again.

Desperately he gasped, for breath, for anything that would make it stop. His mind whispered Arthur’s name again and again, but he couldn’t let his lips follow it. He had seen the anger in Uther’s eyes when he had stepped on the field with the Pendragon shield in his hand. He could not cause Arthur more disapproval this day by begging for his help.

As Geoffrey ground down on him again and again, seemingly in no hurry to remove his weight from Merlin’s wracked body, even Arthur’s name slipped from his mind.

Somewhere in the distance he could hear someone shouting, but it took far longer than he knew it should for him to recognise the words.

 “There’s blood! There’s blood!”

***

 

Arthur was on his feet the instant he heard the shout. As was Kay, both of them stood gripping the edge of the box, straining to see which of their servants was bleeding.

_“Not Merlin, not Merlin, not Merlin, not Merlin_ ” an unending mantra began in Arthur’s head, as he waited for more information

“Prince Arthur’s servant bleeds.” Came the cry, and Arthur felt his world tilt strangely, the pounding blood in his veins halting abruptly along with his breaths.

“No, it can not be.” a sad cry whispered from the side of him, echoing what was in his heart. Turning, he found Morgana pressed next to him, her hand reaching for his across the wood.  

Less than a heartbeat later another call from below restarted his world. “It is from an existing wound.”

Snapping his gaze back down to the field with a speed that should have broken his neck, Arthur watched as the servant on the field pointed to Merlin’s shield arm.

“It does not count.”  Uther’s quick response as he stood up to address the crowd didn’t not surprise or comfort Arthur. “Let them continue.”

“No,” This time the word did moan from Arthur’s lips. He couldn’t take anymore of this watching, of waiting, of feeling each of the blows to Merlin impact in his own chest. Pushing away from Morgana, he crossed to where Kay stood. He had to do something. “Stop this Kay!” he ordered. His voice breaking in a way he couldn’t control. “Stop this.”

Only once the ring of sword hitting sword echoed up to them did Kay slowly turn to acknowledge Arthur. “Give me what I want.”  He smiled.

Arthur shook his head, “No. I can’t.”

Kay turned away. “Then I shall take it battered and bruised instead.”

Looking down Arthur’s stomach flipped as again he saw Merlin on his back, shuffling across the sand, away from the approaching Geoffrey. The blasted shield hampering his movement more than anything. “You shall not have him Kay,” Arthur swore, “You shall not have Merlin!”

“Kay please?” Morgana was once again the voice of Arthur’s mind as she appeared next to them.

Kay turned from the fight below, and bowed his head. “My Lady, I have offered Arthur my forfeit, he has refused my conditions.”

“Arthur no!” Morgana’s voice was as outraged as Arthur expected it to be, and her gloved hand punched into his shoulder. “Do something. Give him what he wants.”

“Yes Arthur,” Kay teased. “Give me what I want.”

“Please Arthur,” Even Guinevere was brave enough to add her voice to the request, but Arthur just shook his head. It was impossible.

_“Yes anything!”_

His promise to Kay the previous night mocked him loudly in his head, as he remembered it, as did Kay’s response.

_“Okay. I want Merlin. Give him to me and I won’t make him fight.”_

_“What? Why?”_ the question had come out strangled from Arthur’s throat, but he had needed to know.

_“Because you don’t want to give him up.”_

Kay had perhaps never said a truer word. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t just give Merlin away not when there was a chance... It would be worth it wouldn’t it? The blood? The pain? If only he got to stay.

 Blinking as a cry of pain filtered up from the field below, Arthur looked down, and saw Merlin bent over, trying to protect himself, but his gaze, it stroked along the royal box, almost as if looking for something.  

Merlin’s eyes moved quickly, frantically, and even his breaths seemed to increase as he searched the crowd. It wasn’t hubris, or self-importance that made Arthur know Merlin was searching for him, it was something deeper, something instinctive.

Pressing himself against the wood, until it was almost painful, and he was in danger of falling over the edge, he ignored those around him and met the look of his servant.  

The breath of relief he saw exit Merlin’s body at the connection, felt as if it directly filled Arthur’s lungs. The world slowed, and shrunk to just the two of them, as if often did in these moments.

However all too suddenly it was over for Arthur. Someone else was treading in their space. From his elevated position he could see Geoffrey, re-approaching, his sword ready.

As the world rushed back to full speed Arthur felt sick, he didn’t have time to move, to say anything, to even break the look before Geoffrey’s hand was on Merlin’s shoulder pushing him back to the ground. Merlin barely had time to gasp and roll on to his back, before Geoffrey was slashing at him.

As the tip of Geoffrey’s blade caressed Merlin’s check Arthur could have sworn half of Camelot held its breath with him, as they waited, waited for that red line to appear, and then for the single drop of blood to fall from it.  

“Noooooo!” Arthur’s scream was swollen by the roar of the crowd. 


	18. Chapter 18

Arthur felt numb.

 

Merlin had lost. He had lost. He had lost Merlin.

As Geoffrey arrogantly swaggered around the arena, and the Kings rose to their feet to clap along with the cheering crowd, Arthur fought for breath.

 

He had… lost. How, how was that possible? His mind stuttered, trying to comprehend what it could not believe.

 

“Come on!” Morgana snapped, her hand pulling at his as she attempted to drag him back to his seat. “Arthur!”

 

He gave her no help and no fight in her task, falling boneless into his chair when she pushed him. He had no time for her. He could not move his eyes from Merlin. The boy hadn’t even reacted to his wound, other than to roll onto his knees and search out Arthur again. Only this time fear shone in those big blue eyes. It was as clear as the blood staining his pale cheek. His injured arm and its still attached shield hung limply at his side, giving him the look of a fledgling with a broken wing.

 

“ARTHUR!” Morgana was almost shouting in his ear now, but still he didn’t – couldn’t – look away from his wounded bird.

 

Only when her fingers pinched spitefully at the back of his hand, sending a stab of physical pain through it, did he turn his head to her. She hadn’t attempted to gain his attention in such a way for more years than he cared to remember. Not since they were children looking to play secret games with one another during long and boring feasts.

 

 With his eyes wide Arthur watched as she studied his face.

 

“Oh,” she sighed sadly, her anger visibly softening into compassion. “What have you done?”

Arthur’s throat just tightened. His voice was lost somewhere down the hole that had appeared in his chest, sometime in the last few moments. Even if he had been able to speak he didn’t know what words to say, how to explain all he felt, or even if he was allowed to.  

 

“He tastes defeat, my lady,” a stronger voice interjected, before Morgana could say anything else. Arthur bristled as he turned to find Kay approaching with an indecently wide smile decorating his face. “I have been told it is rather bitter,” he continued, “although I wouldn’t know myself.”

 

 “Congratulations, Kay.” Morgana wished her voice as sweet as she could make it. “This victory does indeed show your great strength. However, would it not also show your great compassion if you were not to claim your prize? Merlin is very dear to... me, and I would be very…” Her hand moved to stroke Kay’s arm. “…grateful.”

 

As he found his feet, unable to tolerate being towered over by his rival, Arthur’s eyes narrowed. Morgana’s for once inept flirting carried a slim chance of working, but he couldn’t help but appreciate her trying.

 

“Alas,” Kay failed to sound even the least bit upset as he unsuccessfully attempted to temper his ridiculous smile, “it is too late. The serving boy is already being inducted into my household. I fear my father would not allow...”

 

Kay’s lies were lost to Arthur as he turned and found the scene below him much changed from the one he had been distracted from. Merlin was being manhandled to his feet by two of Kay’s men. As Merlin winced at the heavy-handed treatment, Arthur’s soul demanded answers his head couldn’t give. Was this it? Was this the last time he was to see Merlin? Had they spoken their last words to one another?  

 

 “You did say goodbye, didn’t you?” Kay whispered, leaning in close to Arthur, his tone one of pure venom.

 

Arthur growled. The hissed half-threat was the last straw, and his fragile shell of numbness broke.  Spinning around quicker than he had moved all day he shook off the immobilising shock of the defeat and its consequences. His quick movement apparently surprised Kay, and the other prince took a stumbling step back, his eyes involuntarily flicking down to where Arthur’s hand had instinctively gripped his sword.

 

As gratifying as it was to see Kay’s smug smile slide from his face, Arthur didn’t care about the fellow prince. At least not right now. Kay had made it abundantly clear he knew of Arthur’s fondness for Merlin, a fact that freed Arthur from having to continue his indifferent charade. With no more than a glancing look, Arthur pushed past him and headed to the steps at the back of the platform.

 

With his only thought being of the one thing he did care about, the moment his feet hit Camelot soil Arthur began running. Such was his haste that Kay’s men had barely dragged Merlin to the side of the field before Arthur skidded to a stop in front of them, his feet sliding a little in the sand.

 

“Merlin?” he begged when his servant failed to react to his presence. “Merlin?”

 

Without hesitation Arthurs hands moved to take possession of Merlin’s shoulders, pulling him from the clutches of the strangers too confused to argue with him.

 

Only when the change of hands supporting him was complete did Merlin’s eyes drag up, achingly slow, to meet Arthur’s.

 

His face collapsed with a thousand emotions as he recognised the prince. Merlin’s voice when it came sounded as broken as he looked. “Art….thur, I’m so…”

 

Arthur’s hand moved instantly to cup Merlin’s cheek, to silence him. The apology was no more welcome than the goodbye he had tried to give earlier.  “I know.”

 

At Arthur’s open acceptance Merlin’s shoulders relaxed just a little, and he took in a breath that seemed to wreck his body. Arthur felt sick. Merlin was so hurt, so broken, and for what? Absent-mindedly he rubbed his thumb gently to the wound on Merlin’s cheek. It came away stained.  For the second time in as many days Arthur wore Merlin’s blood.

 

“This is not the end,” Arthur swore an oath as he stared at the blood. “It is not. I won’t…”

 

A heavy hand landed on Arthur’s shoulder, halting the promise dead. Letting go of Merlin just enough to turn and look at who it was he was about to kill for the interruption, Arthur was forced to restrict his instant anger to a snarl when he saw it was Kay.  

 

“I’d appreciate it if you removed your hands from _my_ servant, Arthur,” the prince spoke, his voice calm. “You asked of me the courteously of not hurting your servants, I would ask of you the same.”

 

Twisting to look back at Merlin, Arthur was horrified to realise the servant was indeed wincing. His grip on Merlin’s injured shoulder was so tight it was burning his own knuckles white, and no doubt digging bruises into Merlin’s skin. Despite the cold dread in his stomach at the fear that if he let go he may never be able to touch again, Arthur dropped his hold as quick as if Merlin had suddenly turned to flames.

 

Merlin winced again but Arthur didn’t have time to apologise to him, he was already back looking at Kay. “I’m not going to let you take him, Kay. This isn’t right.”

 

Kay just grinned. “What are you going to do, Arthur, get your boy to forge my name on a document freeing him from my service? Do you really believe he is that good a forger? Would you lie to your father for him, again?”

 

Arthur felt his stomach clench. How did Kay know about that? This was dangerous ground. If Uther found out that Merlin had forged the royal seal, servitude to Kay would be the least of his worries. Arthur would be then fighting to keep Merlin’s life rather than just his presence. Arthur knew Kay’s raising of it wasn’t as casual as he was betraying. It was a warning pure and simple. “I don’t know what you are talking about,” he bluffed.

 

“As you say.” Kay shrugged. Apparently he was content with the threat being just that for now. “But you know you really should show a little more gratitude to me, Arthur.  I have every intention of training _your_ boy properly. With some discipline I might even be able to make a half descent servant out of him.”

 

“Discipline?” Arthur felt his anger rise. He knew exactly what kind of discipline Kay favoured, and the thought of Kay with his hands anywhere near Merlin, hurting him, was almost more than he could stand.

 

Kay, oblivious to Arthur’s growing temper, continued on. “Yes, I am aware of your aversion. Very noble and all that, but perhaps if you had been a little harder on your servants over the years, you wouldn’t have lost four times in a row. A few lashes at the start of each morning shouhhgtujh...”

 

Arthur had snapped, and having acted with the speed of a striking serpent his hand was now wrapped around Kay's mouth, choking off his words and pushing deep into his cheeks, until the tips were crushing against jaw bone. It wasn’t enough. Arthur’s fingers twitched tighter. He wanted to feel the skin burst and the bones crack. He wanted Kay to pay for every injury Merlin had suffered, and every injury he was still threatening him with.

 

“You will not touch him!” Arthur’s grip just strengthened as both Kay’s hands pulled at his arm, trying to free himself from the grip. “You will not hurt MY servant!”  Arthur shook him slightly. “Do you understand me?”

 

“LET GO OF HIM, ARTHUR!” The angry shout was not exactly the response Arthur had been expecting, and looking over Kay’s shoulder Arthur’s heart sank. His father, James and more guards than he could count were bearing down on them.

 

Frustrated, he growled. He could benefit in no way from disobeying his father’s order. Reluctantly he pushed Kay away and allowed the man’s albeit no longer smiling face to slide from his grasp.

 

“Arthur!” Uther’s face was almost purple with suppressed rage as he arrived a moment later. “What is wrong with you? How dare you disrespect the house of Limpnee like this! You shall be confined to your quarters for the rest of their visit. “

 

***

 

“No, father, No!” Arthur’s distressed cry as he was pulled away by guards ripped a hole in Merlin’s heart.

 

Arthur could have easily fought off the guards, he knew it, Arthur knew it, hell even the guards knew it, but they also knew he wouldn’t. Arthur wasn’t like Kay, he wouldn’t hurt one of his own people, not even to save himself.

 

Reluctantly Merlin lowered his eyes. As much as he craved the sight of Arthur, if this truly were to be the last time he saw him, he didn’t want his final image of the prince to be this one. He wanted to hold tight to earlier, to when it was just them, to when Arthur’s hands stroked across his face, and his eyes looked as if they had a thousand words to say but no idea where to start.

 

Closing his eyes he waivered a little on his feet. With little else to focus on the pain intensified and became harder to ignore.  His cheek stung only a little, but the pounding in his arm and wrist rivalled that of his chest. He could feel blood dripping from his hand still, and he knew without a doubt that all the stitches Gaius had carefully sown were ripped from place. Bruises begged for attention all over his body, but the biggest was low on his ribs on the right hand side. He suspected Geoffrey’s sly boot to that area may have even cracked a bone or two. It would certainly explain the tightness of his chest, and the struggle he had to catch his breath.

 

“MERLIN!”

 

The sudden cry of his name in the only voice that mattered overrode everything, and snapped his head up instantly.

 

Arthur was twisting in his guards’ grip, straining to look over his shoulder.  “This isn’t over!” he swore, and threw out his hand as if to reach for Merlin. “It’s not…”

 

It was too much for Merlin. Although Arthur’s early grip on his shoulder had begun to hurt, the removal of it and the possibility of it having been their last contact stung far more. Ripping himself away from his own restraining hands, he threw himself across the sand towards Arthur’s outstretched hand.

 

He just needed to hold Arthur’s hand. One more touch, one more connection. He needed it more than he needed his next breath.

 

With each step magic leaked into his body, soothing his pain, keeping him going. He didn’t have the strength to fight against it anymore.  At that moment he didn’t even care whether he betrayed the secret he had tried so desperately to conceal since his arrival in Camelot. It didn't seem to matter now anyway.

 

His right hand came up to reach as he grew closer, stretching out in front of him eagerly. While his left hand just banged the damned shield still tied to it painfully into his side.

 

“Arthur,” he gasped, the name leaving his body on a breath, when finally, moments before he thought his energy would fail him, his fingers grazed against their desired destination.  

 

“Mer…” His name began to groan from Arthur’s lips as their fingers grasped greedily at one another’s, wanting more, wanting a better grip.

 

Pushing closer with the last ounce of his energy, Merlin saw the relief shining in Arthur’s eyes twist into anger, just as a sharp pain exploded at the back of his head.

 

“MERLIN!”

 

With no defence against the excess of pain, Merlin crumpled. His body hit the ground before he could even think to soften the fall. Darkness invaded his vision, and this time it wasn’t taking no for an answer. His battered body slipped into unconsciousness almost gratefully. 

 


	19. Chapter 19

Gwen shivered, as she stepped out of Morgana’s warm chambers. Pulling her thin wrap tighter around her shoulders she lowered her head, and begun along the corridor.

The weather had turned almost instantly after yesterday’s storm, but it wasn’t the reason for her chill. The day’s events were firmly lodged in her mind. Losing Merlin was bad enough, but witnessing Kay hitting him like that as he was saying goodbye was just sickening. The attack was so vicious and yet nonchalant it spoke volumes about what was in store for Merlin’s future. She shivered again. Arthur’s rage and Merlin’s broken body were sights neither she nor anyone else who had witnessed them were ever likely to forget.

Morgana had been moved to tears and to her own vow to never speak to Kay again. Never be in his presence, and certainly not attend the celebration dinner tonight.

In truth the only thing that kept Gwen’s own tears from falling as she had comforted her mistress,  was the faith she held in Arthur promise that he would fix things. He had to? Didn’t he?  Out of all of them it was clear he was the one with the most to lose. He had certainly acted that way. As if he was losing part of himself rather than just another servant. It had been painful to watch.

Morgana hadn’t been so convinced by Arthur’s actions. She was focused on his refusal to accept Kay’s forfeit, during the fight. In support of her anger at the prince she had reeled off the names of those 3 other servants Arthur had lost to Kay. Only one of whom ever actually returned to Camelot. Which was just another failure of Arthur’s according to Morgana.  

Gwen shook her head again. This wasn’t going to be like that, she was sure of it. This was different, this was Merlin. At the thought of her friends name she felt her throat constrict and those tears prickle her eyes again. Arthur had to save him, he just did. He was her friend.

Taking a deep breath she pushed down her emotions. She was sure no one really cared how this affected her, and it wasn’t like she didn’t have a job to do. If Morgana was to eat alone tonight, she would have to go and try and convince Cook to prepare her a separate plate from the feast food.

Raising her head she turned the corner, and instantly recognised a hunched figure, sat upon one of the stone bench’s that littered the castles corridor. Gaius sat with his apothecary bag next to him, and his hands clasped empty on his lap. With his shoulders slumped, and his face fallen for the first time in as long as she could remember he look every bit his age.

Grasping her skirts she ran as quickly as she could to his side. “Gaius?”

She was amazed when slowly he looked up and attempted to smile in greeting at her. “Guinevere.”

Sitting down when he gestured for her too, Gwen folded her own hands into her lap. “How is he? Have you seen him?”

Gaius’ smile waivered and he looked back down. “I do not know how he is.” He spoke after a moment, and shot a wistful look down the corridor. “I am not allowed access to him. Kay has just informed me, as he is now a servant of Limpnee, my services are not required.”

The chill that Gwen had felt all afternoon shivered through her bones again. “But he’s hurt!”

“He is,” Gaius agreed with a nod. “Although I can only make a guess as to how bad, and guessing my dear will help no one.”

Gwen sighed. She couldn’t believe this. Although she had never been fond of Kay, this brutality still surprised her. “Gaius? He will be okay... won’t he?” She asked. The concern she had been harbouring about Merlin being forced to leave Camelot had drifted away, only to be replaced with a more worrying thought that maybe he wouldn’t be leaving at all. Rather she would have a new grave to tend to by the end of the week.

Gaius reached out to pat her hands that she suddenly realised she was wringing. “Do not worry. Bruises, bones, bleeding it can all be fixed, if it can be treated.”

Gwen just looked at him. “And if you can’t?”

“Then...” Now it was time for Gaius to look away. “...there will be other ailments for Merlin to fight as well as his injuries. Infections, fevers, shock...” he trailed off, and Gwen was grateful.  The thought of Merlin having to fight anything more this day was unbearable.

“Does Arthur know?” Gwen asked, her thoughts once more turning to the prince and his desire to fix things.

Gaius shook his head. “Arthur is locked in his room. I am to see him next, but... well...He couldn’t help even if he wished too.”

“Maybe not.” Gwen agreed. She could easily understand how telling Arthur of this would only cause the prince more stress, and achieve nothing. However she couldn’t just sit by and have nothing done. “But maybe… I can.”

 

Standing in front of a closed door, Gwen adjusted her dress, as she held the plate of Morgana’s dinner with one hand. The food smelt so good, had her heart not been pounding it may have made Gwen’s mouth water. She had managed to convince one of the cooks for the best slices of the bird, and the meat was still steaming. In fact it looked so good Gwen was almost ashamed it wasn’t going to Morgana after all. Although Morgana would understand, Gwen was sure she would.

With a deep breath she knocked on the wood and waited.

When the door finally opened and in the gap stood the person she was looking for she plastered her brightest smile across her face. “Geoffrey.” She grinned.

Prince Kay’s man servant hadn’t been as hard to track down as she had expected. Having peered around the corner of the banquet hall’s doors, and found an unfamiliar face waiting on the celebrating Prince Kay, she hadn’t even bothered to check the servant’s quarters before coming straight to Kay’s rooms.

“Gwen, what are you doing here?” Geoffrey greeted, his expression that of pure surprise.

“I brought you this,” Gwen held out the plate she had procured. “I wanted to say congratulations for today, you fought...well.”

Geoffrey seemed to instantly relax at her praise. “My victory was never in any doubt.” He bragged his chest puffing out a little.   

Gwen smiled further, “I am sure Kay is very appreciative of your skills.”

 “Appreciative?” Geoffrey just laughed, and pulled his hand out from behind the door to show her the jug of wine he was holding. “This is Kay’s appreciation, this and the job of babysitting his new... acquisition.”

“Merlin?” she gasped. “He’s here?”

Geoffrey nodded as he took a swig of his wine, and Gwen’s throat tightened. She had thought only to try and use their shared servant status to get answers out of Geoffrey. But if Merlin were here, unguarded, perhaps she could aim a little higher.  “How is he?” She questioned. “Can I see him?”

Geoffrey’s face closed down instantly and he pulled the door a little tighter to him, clearly concerned about her sudden enthusiasm. “That would be more than my life’s worth.” He spoke coldly. “Besides he’s fine, he’s sleeping like a baby.”

Gwen took a step back, perhaps answers to her questions was all she was going to get after all. “Will... will Kay treat him well?”

 

Geoffrey eyed her suspiciously. “He will get treated the same as all his other servants do I should expect.” 

 

“Does he treat you well?”

 

Instead of an answer Geoffrey just waved his rapidly emptying jug of wine at her again.

 

Gwen narrowed her eyes. She had never found it so hard to connect with another servant before. Even the best and most dedicated of handmaidens and man servants could be found chatting with one another pretty freely outside of the glare of their masters, and mistresses. Geoffrey just seemed cold, distant.  She was truly finding it hard to see any common ground between them.

 

“Well I...I should let you go.” She stumbled, and then suddenly remembered the plate still in her hand. “Here,” she offered it forward once more. “I hope you enjoy it.”

 

Letting go of the door, Geoffrey seemed to forget about his desire to keep it closed, as he reached for the food.

 

Gwen’s eyes quickly scanned as much of the room as she could, but found it too ill lit to see much. The one thing she could see was the bed, and that it was empty. If Merlin truly were sleeping somewhere in there, it certainly wasn’t in a bed.

 

“Did you want something else?” Geoffrey questioned, as he stepped back to block her view once more.

 

Gwen shook her head. A thank you was obviously out of the question. Turning away her mind was spinning. What on earth was wrong with Geoffrey? He was acting more like Arthur than Merlin. He had only just won the tournament. Surely the victory couldn’t have gone to his head already.

 

“Oh,” Gwen touched a hand to her head as if she had just remembered something and turned back to call out once more. “From what I saw Prince Kay is celebrating rather hard tonight. Does he have a favourite breakfast that might improve his recovery tomorrow? I could ask the kitchen to prepare it if you would like.”

 

Geoffrey shook his head, and barely slowed his closing of the door. “No, the standard fair shall do. I believe we are leaving in the morning anyway.”       

 

Gwen barely had time to hear those last words, before the door was closed.

 

Quickly she laid her hand to her chest. Her heart was beating faster now than it had when she had been waiting for the door to open. 

 

What kind of servant didn’t know their masters favourite breakfast, or worse didn’t care to obtain it for them? Someone who had drunk too much one night was likely to be a monster in the morning, so anything to help stave that off was usually a welcome prospect indeed.  Merlin had on occasions been known on the day after feasts to be up before the cooks to ensure Arthur had his favourite foods cooked and ready. Whether it was Arthurs benefit or Merlin’s own was still in discussion.

 

Turning on her heel she began running, all thoughts of decorum lost. If Kay was leaving tomorrow, she had no time to lose.

 

Bursting through the door to Gaius’ room even the sight of one of Camelot’s knights sat talking with the old physician wasn’t enough to stop her confused thoughts spilling from her lips in the form of a clear accusation. “Gaius! I don’t think Geoffrey is a servant!”

 

Slowly both men turned to her, their faces grim but unsurprised.

 

“No,” Leon agreed, as he got to his feet. “He’s not.”

 


	20. Chapter 20

Sitting as still as a statue in the window arch of his room, Arthur stared blankly down into the courtyard. Unwelcome tiredness pulled at his aching muscles. A longing he couldn’t deny pounded in his chest, and a single word beat like a drum in his head.

 

_Merlin. Merlin. Merlin. Merlin._

 

The name had been repeating for so long it didn’t even make sense to him anymore. It was just an unending sound

 

_...MerlinMerlinMerlinMerlin_...

 

The constant beat of it kept his bloodied knuckles curled into tight fists pressed hard against his thighs. How many times had he shouted that name? Cursed it? Laughed it? He had even moaned it once or twice. It was the first word on his lips most mornings, and almost certainly the last on his mind each night. What kind of a name was it anyway? Meerr-lin? A stupid name, and yet if it were to disappear from his life now he was certain he would miss the way the syllables felt as they slid across his lips, almost as much as he would miss the man.

 

Not that he was going to let that happen. To any onlooker, not close enough to see the tension in his arms and shoulders, his stillness might suggest his anger had waned. Nothing could be further from the truth. His blood bubbled with desire for revenge. Revenge even if for nothing other than denying Arthur what he had needed so much.

 

Arthur had needed the contact with Merlin as much as the servant apparently did. He had strained against restrictive hands until they burned bruises into him just to reach for it, just to touch, and Kay had taken it away with one jab of his sword-hilt to Merlin’s head.

 

As his mind torturously replayed the scene from the beginning Arthur’s lips twisted, and he fought not to growl. All the small details he could never forget ratcheted his fury higher and higher.  

 

Merlin’s smile, and the way that it lit up his whole face when he raised his head at the sound of his name and found Arthur reaching for him.

 

Merlin’s eyes almost seeming to glow in the sunlight as he had run, faltering step after faltering step, towards Arthur.

 

The way Merlin’s small body visibly shivered in relief when their hands had finally touched for that briefest of moments.

 

The swell of his heart as those rough fingers caressed his.   

 

By the time he reached the memory of his own name groaned from Merlin’s lips he was actually twitching in anticipation of making Kay pay for taking all that away.

 

Arthur’s memory got a little hazy after that point. A pained scream that he could still feel now had ripped from his throat. Then more hands had been on him, almost instantly, and he had fought with them. Right up until the next thing he saw, which was his bedroom door closing the rest of the world out. Even then he hadn’t been able to stop his fight. He had raged against the wood until it was stained red, and he couldn’t move his hands anymore.

 

Only when the pain from his impulsive actions had grown strong enough to slice through his adrenaline did he calm, and fall into his chair.  

 

Since that moment time had begun to drip by slower than he could ever remember it moving.  At some point when Arthur hadn’t been looking dusk had fallen. His room had grown dark, but before the maid who came to light his candles had even stepped through the door he had thrown her back out with an angry shout.

 

 Lighting _his_ candles was Merlin’s job. He could not even begin to comprehend otherwise. Merlin was his. Til they day he died. Wasn’t that what he had sworn?

 

Tearing his gaze from the courtyard Arthur stared at the door. With no effort at all he could conjure an image of Merlin there, leaning against it, that strange look upon his face. A hesitance about him as if there was something more he wanted to say, but didn’t know where to begin.

 

Then it was gone. The image of Merlin turned, and the room was empty once more. Arthur’s heart twisted painfully. The night of that remembered exchange he hadn’t been able to sleep. He had lain replaying the servant’s words over and over in his mind. The fearful thought that they had been a goodbye hurting him more than he ever realised it would. Even back then the thought of losing Merlin was terrifying to the young prince. However now he realised the pain of it had been greatly understated.

 

That imagined goodbye had hurt to live through, but it paled into insignificance against the truth of living it.

 

Although he felt consumed with his thoughts and feelings, Arthur’s senses were keen and focused. So when fresh footsteps approached his door he was on his feet with his sword drawn and ready before the accompanying knock came.

 

“Yes?!” he demanded impatiently when finally it echoed through his room.  

 

In response the door that had so thwarted him earlier began to slowly inch open. With each creak of the wood Arthur’s grip tightened on his sword. He only cared for it to be one of two people disturbing him. One would find the sharp tip of his weapon buried in their soft belly before they could speak a word. The other... he dared not think what he may do with them.

 

When the face of his visitor appeared and it was neither, Arthur dropped his fighting stance as easily as if removing a cloak. With tempered aggression he dropped his sword to the table.  

 

“Gaius,” he greeted soberly, grateful that he didn’t need to fake a smile. He knew the man in front of him would be hurting just as much as he. “What news?”

 

“Arthur.” The old physicians’ voice as it greeted him was as slow, thick and reassuringly stable as ever. It brought Arthur hope that the old man would have something to help calm his fractured heart, but nothing else came. Not until he stepped closer and his quick eyes moved to Arthur’s hands, assessing the abrasions covering them. As if it was his reason for being there.  “Sire, I can bandage those for you if you would like?” he offered after a moment.

 

Arthur instantly moved his hands behind his back and away from Gaius’ unwavering gaze. He wasn’t exactly embarrassed by the self-inflicted wounds, but he was equally unsure that he wanted to share or acknowledge there existence. When it came to it, what were a few scuffed knuckles compared to what Merlin had suffered this day? 

 

“Tell me of Merlin?” he almost begged as he thought of his servant.

 

Gaius stepped forward, his hands splayed out in front of him as if he were trying to calm a spooked horse. If anything the gesture just made Arthur more nervous. “At least let me clean your hands before you appear in front of the king,” he asked.

 

Arthur shook his head. He had no intention of seeing his father anytime soon, and was confused by Gaius intent. “How is he?” he demanded, his voice rising slightly with frustration. “Gaius! Tell me!”

 

As Gaius paused and took a deep breath, Arthur felt something deep inside him shift. His skin suddenly prickled as if he had just fallen in a lake of ice, and he was almost overcome with fear. Was Gaius here to tell him the worst? To then drug him and help numb the grief that was sure to follow? “Tell me,” he whispered, overcome with a need to hear the words. “Just… tell me. Is he...?”

 

“Sire, no.” Gaius’ words rushed to reassure him, and Arthur could not have been more grateful. “He lives, but I do not know how well. I have no news because I haven’t been allowed to see him, to treat him. He is locked in Kay’s chambers, and is to remain there until they leave.”

 

“WHAT?!” The weakness that Arthur had felt just a heartbeat ago was banished by a burst of anger. Blood coloured his previously pallid cheeks, and his hands were fists once more.

 

Gaius took a step back. “Kay claims he is well, so my services are not needed,” he added quickly.

 

“No, no,” Arthur could not believe what he was hearing. “He’s lying!” The image of Merlin’s bright red blood flowing across his pale skin burned viciously in Arthur’s mind. “He was hurt. I know it. You have to help him, Gaius.”

 

“I will.” Gaius nodded. “But I need your help first, Sire.”

 

***

 

Opening his eyes as he rolled back his head Merlin instantly noticed darkness around him. Surprise nagged at him. Had he truly been unconscious so long?

 

He wondered whether to try and create a light, but even the simplest of magic seemed out of reach right now. Not to mention the fact that he didn’t know where he was, which meant magic was too big a risk to take.

 

Sitting with his back against a wall he tried blinking to adjust his eyes, but even that small movement sent waves of pain crashing through him. His ribs ached, his head spun, bruises complained in a hundred different spots on his body, but his arm was worryingly numb.

 

“Ohhh.” A groan escaped from him unbidden when he tried to flex his fingers. It may have been numb but attempting to move that swollen wrist was definitely not a good idea. It left him breathless and feeling hollow inside. The world spun, and he felt distinctly nauseous.  

 

Panting he placed his good hand against the floor, just to reassure himself he wasn’t moving anymore.

 

“Oh, you’re awake then?” A voice he knew suddenly called through the darkness, surprising him.

 

“Get Gaius? Please?” he whispered, not trusting his voice to last any longer than to ask for what he needed most desperately. He could tell a fever was already taking grip of him, and he dreaded to think how much treatment his other injuries needed.

 

A shuffling of footsteps from a room nearby was his only answer. Until the too bright flame of a candle appeared in his vision, and brought with it the speaker into room.

 

Apparently content with ignoring Merlin, Kay’s servant moved about and began to light every candle he could find.

 

Merlin watched as best he could without moving any more than just his eyes. It instantly became clear he was in Kay’s antechamber. That was something at least, he realised. He was still in Camelot.   

 

When Geoffrey disappeared from his view once more Merlin lowered his eyes to look at himself. The first thing he noticed was the Camelot shield had been removed from his arm. He had vaguely hoped that the straps from it had become twisted somehow and therefore responsible for his numbness. The second thing he noticed was the manner in which it had been removed. Those straps that Arthur had so carefully tied had been clumsily sliced by a sharp blade, and no care taken to avoid his skin or clothes in the process. At least three fresh cuts had been sliced into his flesh, and had bled copiously until stopping of their own volition. Just more wounds to add to the growing list, he realised.

 

“Please,” he whispered with a dry throat as Geoffrey appeared again. “Gaius?”

 

“The court physician?” Geoffrey finally questioned as he knelt down in front of Merlin. “For you? A servant? No, I don’t think that’s necessary. It may pay you to realise Kay views his servants as infinitely more expendable than Arthur does.”

 

Merlin frowned. Although he understood the words Geoffrey was speaking, the man in front of him barely resembled the one he had ridden with all those days, the man Gaius had treated. “But you’re…”  

 

A grin came and went across Geoffrey’s face. “Ah, but I’m a special case. Worth rather a great deal more than you, I’m afraid.”

 

Merlin’s throat tightened and he looked down. Was this his life now? To have a running total of injuries in his head? To be treated worse than one of the horses? To never see Arthur again?

 

_No!_ his mind screamed. It couldn’t be that he had taken his last look at the prince. It couldn’t. 

 

_This is not the end!_

 

Arthur’s sworn promise repeated loudly in his head, and he remembered those last few minutes when Arthur had been fighting for him.  

 

Moving just his eyes to look up through his lashes once more at Geoffrey, Merlin felt a strange kind of relief, as he asked for the only thing he had ever craved with such a hunger. “Arthur?”

 

Geoffrey’s response was so violent it made Merlin flinch back from the burst of laughter. “Don’t fool yourself, Merlin. That’s even less likely to happen. You’re Kay’s now, I would learn to live with that if I were you.”

 

Merlin shook his head before he thought through the consequences, and was forced to swallow hard the hot bile that appeared in his throat. “Arthur… will… come,” he hissed, desperate to believe in the prince.

 

Geoffrey stood up and took a step back as if worried Merlin was about to vomit all over him. Merlin had considered it.

 

“Think what you will, boy. But ask yourself this. If Arthur cared so much for your safety why did he not spare you our fight and take Kay’s offered forfeit today?”

 

Merlin’s world tilted strangely. Geoffrey was lying, he had to be. Had Kay offered forfeit surely Arthur would have taken it.

 

“You would think so, wouldn’t you?” Geoffrey answered, and Merlin wondered if he had spoken his thoughts aloud or whether they had just been that clearly written across his face. “But you know how much Arthur likes to win. How much he is willing to sacrifice for it. A victory in name alone wouldn’t have been good enough for your prince. He wanted to win by your action. Unfortunately you just weren’t good enough.”

 

Merlin shut his eyes against Geoffrey’s truth.  Hadn’t that been what he had feared all along? He had so desperately wanted to prove himself to Arthur, to make the prince proud, to make him see him as more than just another servant, but that was all he was. A pathetic serving boy, who couldn’t fight, couldn’t even hold a bow without harming himself. So he had magic, but what good was that in a kingdom that declared it evil, an abomination? He had let his head be turned by talk from that dragon about destinies and great times. When in truth those men that had administered his last beating before he left his own village had been correct. He was nothing more than a freak. Perhaps he deserved to be in Kay’s service after all. He certainly didn’t feel as if he deserved to belong to Arthur, not after this.

 

“Arthur.” The whispered name escaped him on his next breath without him even thinking it. Yet its mere presence sparked the smallest ember of hope in his chest. The prince had slept in his room, carried him when he was hurt, he wouldn’t give him up now. Would he?

 

“Listen!” Geoffrey’s hand suddenly gripped Merlin’s face, and he snapped his eyes back open in surprise.  The fellow servant appeared red with a rage Merlin didn’t understand. “You hear that music?” he demanded. “That is the princes celebrating. Both of them. I guarantee you no one will be coming for you tonight.”

 

Merlin strained his ears, and sure enough he could hear the faint strains of music drifting up from what he could only assume to be the banquet hall. Certainly it was the sound of a celebration. Was that where Arthur was?

 

Merlin had been at a hundred feasts since he had arrived in Camelot, and at every one his eyes had only followed the prince. So the image of Arthur dressed in his best, eating, drinking, celebrating, easily came to mind. 

 

As his eyes grew watery with the fear that he may never see that scene again, Geoffrey pushed him away. Sliding against the wall, he fell soundlessly to the side and his numb shoulder crashed into the solid floor.

 

Arthur wasn’t coming. Geoffrey was right. Merlin wasn’t worth it.

 

Ignoring all his screaming injuries Merlin curled into himself, seeking some kind of comfort from his own warmth.

 

Closing his eyes he listened to that faint music and allowed each note to wash away his hope, until all that was left was an empty blackness in his chest, and a nagging desire that would never be fulfilled.

 

***

 

As Arthur strode down the corridor he could see every guard he passed turn to stare at him. Each was forced to make the decision whether to challenge him about the fact that he was clearly out of his room, despite the king’s orders. None did. They all let him past without so much as a question.

 

Arthur had barely been able to believe it when Gaius had opened the door to show only George standing guard, and his exit therefore free. When Leon had arrived moments later with the proof Gaius had spoken of, in hand, Arthur had practically skipped out of the room.

 

Now that proof was in his hands. All he had to do was get his father to see it.

Kay had cheated. Gaius had been sure, Leon had confirmed it. It meant only one thing to Arthur. Merlin would be free. With the small group of people that followed him he was certain of it.

 

Passing yet more guards he pushed his way into the banquet hall, and was surprised to be surrounded by music.

 

Tonight was a celebration. Of course it was. In the midst of his distress he had forgotten, but the music still seemed out of place.

 

Glancing at the musicians on his right Arthur guessed James had brought them with him. His father on all but the rarest of occasions preferred silence within the castle walls.

 

“FATHER!” he shouted, although he didn’t really need to. Every eye had turned his way the moment he stepped through the door. “I have news!”

 

As Arthur strode towards him Uther’s face reddened, but he didn’t let his father’s obvious anger halt his steps. There were more important things at stake than embarrassing his father.

 

From the corner of his eye he saw James make a movement, and the music abruptly stopped. The room was silenced instantly, and only his footsteps made any noise.

All of the gathered nobles were far too curious as to what was going on to continue with their meals.

 

“What is the meaning of this, Arthur?!” Uther demanded as he rose to his feet.

 

“I have news,” Arthur repeated.

 

Uther made a slight nod to the guards, and suddenly the sound of footsteps echoed around the room again. “It can wait!”

 

“Prince Kay cheated!” Arthur snapped, forgoing all plans of diplomacy as his time grew shorter with each step of the guards.  

 

Kay was next to his feet. His movement was accompanied by the crash of his chair as he flung it backwards. “What is this?” he demanded, a snarl gracing his face. “Jealousy, Arthur?” 

 

Arthur clenched his jaw and fought to keep his temper. Laying the rolled scroll on the table in front of his father he spoke directly to him. “Kay’s servant is Sir Geoffrey of Blaze. He is the fourth son of Lord Blaze. That is his family crest.” Arthur paused just long enough for his father to retrieve the scroll he pointed at. “As the competition rules state that out proxy must not be of noble birth, and must not have received any formal training I say again...” This time Arthur turned to look at Kay, his own face twisting in disgust this time. “...Kay cheated!”

 

“Lies!” Kay snapped. “Arthur knows of a good forger, I am sure this is just...”

 

“It has come straight for our Court chronicler.” Arthur spoke over the fuming prince, hearing the veiled threat of Kay’s knowledge but ignoring it. “You may ask him if you wish, Sire.”

 

Uther looked up from where he was scanning the parchment to where Arthur pointed at the door.

 

“Well?” he demanded of the man standing there.

 

“It is true, Sire.” Sir Monmouth confirmed as he shuffled forward. “Lord Blaze has four sons. The youngest of which is Sir Geoffrey. Although the descriptions of the boys match I cannot of course confirm the servant is the same man without time to make correspondence.”

 

“There!” Kay almost shouted. “He cannot be sure. It is clearly a mistaken identity!”

 

Arthur shook his head. He was almost enjoying this. “I am afraid not, Kay. Sir Leon is prepared to swear that they are one and the same person.”

 

“Sir Leon?” as Kay repeated the foreign name to him. Uther simply gestured the knight forward.

 

Coming to stand next to Arthur, Leon bowed his head respectfully at both kings.

 

“Is this true, Leon?” Uther questioned.

 

Leon nodded. “It is my Lord. I squired with Geoffrey myself during my time in Lord Hareken’s household. We were together for two summers. I have no doubt they are the same man.”

 

“Lies!” Kay swore again. Although his voice was a lot less convinced that it had been a moment ago.

 

“Why have you waited until now to come forward?” Uther questioned.

 

“I was on border patrol, sire. I returned only the two nights ago. Today’s round was the first time I have seen Sir Geoffrey. I brought my knowledge to Arthur the moment I could.”

 

Uther nodded, apparently content with this answer. Although Arthur knew of Gwen’s and Gaius’ suspicions he also knew that a knight’s word could not be easily dismissed, and that Leon’s tale was the safest to present.

 

“This is an insult to Camelot!” Arthur pressed the only point he knew his father would care about. “I demand Kay is stripped of victory and that all prizes are returned!”

 

Uther opened his mouth to speak, but paused as James finally rose to his feet.

 

“Kay,” James spoke for the first time to his son, “this is not acceptable. I believe there has been enough proof presented for doubt to be clear. Please bring your servant here. I would like to hear what he has to say on the matter. ”

 

Kay was visibly wavering on his feet. “If this is true,” he croaked, “I declare I knew nothing of it.”

 

“DO as I say!” James snapped, and Arthur was amazed. He didn’t think he had ever heard the other king raise his voice before. “We will not insult our hosts this way!”

 

Kay looked from Arthur to his father and back again. He was obviously embarrassed by the situation, but he had little choice but to obey. Stomping from the table he left the room.

 

Arthur relaxed just slightly at Kay’s removal from his sight. It had taken every ounce of self control he owned not to leap the table and bury his sword in Kay’s throat the moment he saw him. 

 

“Arthur, you shall have as requested,” James spoke softly once his son had left the room, and a low murmur of whispers took hold of the room. “If my son has cheated you will have your servant returned.”

 

Arthur forced himself to smile at the king. Despite all his blustering about the kingdom, James had seen through him to his true reasoning. Merlin.

 

The name was once more screaming in his head. He was getting him back. Gaius would treat him, and everything would be well again.  Merlin wouldn’t have to leave. Arthur wouldn’t have to spend the rest of his life without the one person that made everything brighter. He wouldn’t have to say goodbye.

 

Goodbye. That word replaced Merlin’s name in Arthur’s mind. It snarled in Kay’s vindictive voice, and tightened his chest.

 

When they had spoken in Kay’s quarters last night the other prince had expressed his desire for one thing alone; to deprive Arthur of Merlin. No matter what the cost. He hadn’t cared about winning. He had only cared about hurting Arthur. The discovery of his cheating would not change that.

 

Spinning Arthur turned to stare at the door. Would Kay really return through it with Geoffrey in tow ready to face punishments? If he did would he have already harmed Merlin beyond repair?  That question stilled Arthur’s heart.

 

Kay had already told Arthur he was going to hurt Merlin just for the fun of it. What was there to stop him doing it now, while he still had the chance?

 

“Excuse me,” he grunted, barely turning to force an apology at the kings before he began running. He couldn’t let this happen. Not now. Not when he was so close to getting Merlin back, so close to making things right.

 

Footsteps followed him, but he didn’t turn to see who they belonged to. He didn’t care. Racing through the corridors he didn’t slow his pace once. Not even when he reached Kay’s closed door. Barrelling into it he shook the wood and pounded at it with his tender fists.

 

“Merlin! MERLIN!”

 

***

 

“Arthur? Arthur?” The name slipped from Merlin’s lips almost without his knowledge. It came to him as naturally as breathing. Slowly he tried to move, but grunted from the effort. His body ached. Stiffness had settled in his limbs.

 

The more he tried to move the hazier his vision grew, and the faster his head spun. The scene in front of him already didn’t make sense, and his endeavours weren’t helping.

 

“Arthur,” Merlin whispered, more of a plea this time. He just wanted the prince there. Everything would be alright he was sure if only he could see his prince just one more time.

 

“Will you shut up!” Kay’s vicious voice snapped as hands tugged and pulled at him. “...and stop moving!”

 

Never one to obey an order Merlin used the last of his energy to lift his head up from where it lay against the warm neck of the horse he had just been forced onto.

 

The view behind Kay took his breath away.

 

The castle looked so pretty at night he had never really appreciated it before. But as shadows moved over windows and made the burning lights flicker like stars, he could not think of a better time of day in which to take his last view of Camelot, his last view of home.

 

Kay was snarling more orders at Geoffrey, but Merlin wasn’t listening. Instead he was counting windows, and remembering placements of doorways. He wanted to be able to keep this scene as accurate as possible in his mind.

 

Only once his horse began to move forward did he close his eyes. Unable to watch as all he knew and loved grew smaller.

 

Unconsciousness seemed a blessing against the pain of saying goodbye, and he dove into it willingly.

 


	21. Chapter 21

Morgana had vowed not to leave her room all night. She wanted no part in the celebrations that were taking place. She could see no reason for them,  Merlin was lost, Arthur broken. As far as she was concerned the castle should have been mourning not rejoicing.

 

Even when the sound of music filtered up to her room she wasn’t tempted, despite her love of dancing. 

 

When Gwen failed to return with her dinner, long after her stomach had begun making noises, she was mildly intrigued as to what was going on. But that interest only took her as far as the corridor directly outside her room. The music was louder out there, and all the wonderful smells of the great banquet surrounded her. Swaying slightly on her feet she found a detestable part of her wondering if she could dress quickly enough to attend the feast before all the food was removed.

 

With a sudden shake of her head, and self loathing throbbing in her veins, she stepped back inside her room and slammed the door shut. She only opened it again when a servant appeared with a plate of food in their hands and apologies on their lips that Gwen had been called away to help Gaius.

 

Morgana accepted the food, which she wouldn’t allow herself to eat, with a forced smile and waved them away with assurances that she understood.

 

She did understand. Gwen had a big heart. One she was sure was hurting for her friend. So as lonely as it left her, she didn’t mind giving up her hand maiden to help the physician. It had happened before when the need was great, and the patient was Merlin.

 

Merlin. Morgana thought of the servant. Thought of how dull the castle had been before his arrival, how arrogant Arthur had been allowed to become. Then she thought of how small and fragile the boy that had changed everything had looked, as he was dragged unconscious away from the field today, and tears filled her eyes without permission.

 

Just as her hand began to creep unconsciously across the table and to the cooling plate of food, a shout from the hallway sent her to her feet.

 

“Merlin! MERLIN!”

 

Arthur’s voice screamed though stone walls and wooden doors to squeeze her heart.

 

The prince was obviously out of his room, and clearly distressed. She could think of only one reason why that could have occurred, and it frightened her.

 

Had Gwen offered to help Gaius for reasons more than just her fondness for Merlin? Did the seriousness of his injuries demand it?

 

Only  the sound of metal-clad footsteps rushing past her door, and the sudden take up of a rhythmic pounding in time with Arthur's pleading cry for his servant, answered her questions.

 

What was going on?

 

She had expected to spend tomorrow readying Arthur for the goodbye he needed to say. Was it already too late? Gathering her skirts Morgana headed to the door, hoping she was wrong.

 

But as she stepped from her room and the sound of splintering wood echoed around her, she feared the worst.

 

She knew Arthur normally only flirted with his temper, keeping it on a tighter chain than anyone she knew. Even when that hold was relaxed enough to enable him to win whatever tournament or fight he was taking part in, it always seemed controlled. Certainly he had the odd childish tantrum, where he threw the closest thing to hand at the nearest person. But she knew these displays only touched the surface of a far deeper well. She wasn’t sure whether it was due to his intense training or an instinctive sense of self preservation that kept such a tight rein on his fury, but either way she was grateful for it. She had only seen the true extent of it once or twice, and to be quite frank it had frightened her.    

 

With a heavy heart she headed towards the noise, hoping that just maybe she could offer some kind of comfort to her surrogate brother. After all, she knew how it felt to lose someone so important to you that it changes your world forever. 

 

The first thing she noticed as she approached Kay’s room was the two guards standing awkwardly outside, looking as if they weren’t quite sure of their purpose. The second was the wood splinters that littered the floor. Her eyes flicked up to the door. It hung slightly crooked against the frame, the wood around the lock cracked and broken.  Fist size imprints scarred its surface. She didn’t need to guess whose hands they would match.  

 

Taking a deep breath she pushed forward.

 

The room was emptier than she had expected, and far stiller too. Gaius and Leon stood to one side; the older man bent low, fiddling with a shield on the floor, the faithful knight with his eyes steadily on the only other person in the room.

 

Arthur.

 

The prince stood worryingly still, almost silhouetted against the window. His hand pressed painfully into it. Squinting, Morgana thought she could see cracks in the glass where he had obviously hit it.

 

Looking around she wondered exactly why Arthur had felt the need to break into Kay’s room, and that’s when she saw it. The large red smear across the floor beneath Arthur’s feet.

 

A sound escaped her throat, half gasp, half scream.

 

Announcing her presence, it snapped the prince around to stare at her. But as she met his eyes, Morgana almost felt like screaming again. His face was so blank, empty, as if all the world had been drained of its colour and he had nothing to look at anymore. His stare held nothing but pain. Morgana recognised grief when she saw it.

 

Rushing towards him she almost forgot the stain on the floor, stumbling to avoid it only at the last moment.

 

Arthur’s eyes narrowed a little in confusion, but as he looked down at her feet his entire body seemed to tense and twitch. She could tell he was seeing the mark for the first time.

 

Quicker than she could take a breath he was moving towards the door. Reaching out she grabbed at his arm and fought to hold on when he failed to stop.

 

“Arthur, please?” she begged, her grip tight enough to dig her nails into his skin. She could see his self control fraying at the edges. His anger was bubbling and it wouldn’t be long before it broke completely.  “What is going on?”

 

“Kay. Took. Merlin.” He forced each word though his clenched jaw, giving them no quarter. “He. Cheated. And. He. Took. Him.”

 

As she dragged Arthur to a stop, Morgana was stunned. Kay had cheated? Was there proof? Had the kings been told?

 

A thousand questions spun around her, but the first question to escape her mouth was the repeat of Arthur’s last words. “Took him? What do you mean?”

 

Arthur just turned away from her in response, his eyes drawn back to that horrific stain. So instead she looked to the other men in the room for some kind of explanation. After a quick glance between them Leon stepped forward.  Speaking softly he quickly explained all that had happened, and what Arthur had witnessed from the window. As he did Morgana kept her grip tight on Arthur's arm. The prince looked ready to bolt the very second she relaxed.

 

“That’s not all,” Gaius added grimly, as Leon’s short tale finished.

 

Only now did Arthur respond. Looking back he snatched up the shield Gaius was holding out to him.  The colour drained from his face as his eyes roamed across it.

 

In the flickering candlelight Morgana could easily recognise the blood stains splattered across the underside. The straps that had been used to tie it on were roughly cut, and stiff with what she guessed was more blood. She felt sick.

 

“Merlin’s?” she guessed.

 

Gaius nodded. “It would appear so, the same as the floor.”

 

Morgana felt her throat tighten and her eyes prickle with tears. She had already presumed to have lost him once today. She didn’t wish to do so again. “Does he live?” she whispered the only question that truly mattered.

 

“I cannot tell,” Gaius answered with painful honesty. “He has not recovered from yesterday’s wounds yet. To have more is… ”

 

“He lives!” Arthur snapped with a conviction that no one truly shared.

 

Morgana’s heart ached for him. She knew it didn’t matter how much you wished things like that true, it didn’t make them so.

 

“I will have him back!” Arthur continued when no one said anything.

 

Finally losing all care for not hurting her he pulled from her grasp roughly and turned to the door.

 

“Wait, wait,” Morgana begged as quickly her mind began spinning. She could already see there was no way to stop Arthur following his servant out into the night. But she equally knew there was no way Uther would give permission for his son to go out romping around the forest searching for a couple of servants, especially not if one of them was Merlin. Uther was rapidly losing patience with Arthur and his obvious fondness for the boy. If anything he would take this disappearance as a blessing.

 

 “Arthur, take Kay with you,” she called as he crossed the threshold, no doubt in her mind as to where he was heading. “I’ll tell the kings that Geoffrey took him too, and it is him you are trying to find.”

 

***

 

Kay allowed himself a quick smile as he stepped inside the castle. His plan was complete. Merlin was safely out of the castle and away from Arthur. Geoffrey was set up perfectly to take the blame. No matter what Arthur did now Kay could counter it. He was sure of it. All he had to do was make sure his father and Uther believed he had nothing to do with Geoffrey's actions and he was home dry.

 

Kay's smile grew as he approached the great hall, and he licked his lips. Just imagining Arthur's reaction to his words – his anger, sadness, frustration – made him eager to experience it. The prince would be broken, and all the better for it.

 

Every year the besting of Arthur made for such a heady cocktail, one sweeter than any other, that once drunk he was always saddened he would have to wait another whole year to taste it again.  Sure in the intervening months he could and would regularly beat his local men and knights, make sure they were in their place, but nothing felt quite as satisfying as asserting his dominance over a fellow prince.

 

Ever since that moment his father had sat him down and explained to him that one day Arthur would also become a king of his own land, he had been consumed with this insatiable desire to prove himself the better. For surely it followed that the better prince would make the better king, and the better king, well, Kay had his own ideas what the better king would do to the lesser one.

 

It was that summer after his father had broken all his dreams with the news that he wasn't to be the only king, that he had taken Arthur out to the forest and set upon him with fist, foot and three of his guards.

 

He was now at least ashamed of his actions that summer. That first time he’d put Arthur in his place. It was lazy and untidy, uninspired and clumsy. But worst of all it had put paid to his chance of ever doing it again.

 

He had almost cried with relief when the kings presented them the gift of the competition after Arthur's accident. In a less direct way it did still give him the opportunity to hurt the younger prince at least once a year.  Although the ease of his wining year after year had worn down his enjoyment of it he had settled for what he could get. Well, until this year of course. This year he felt as if all his birthdays had come at once, and they had been drenched in gold. All because of one, from what he could see, pretty useless servant. A pretty useless servant that appeared to mean more than he should to Arthur.

 

He was certain Arthur's fallen face when he announced Merlin was gone, would be as good as seeing it blooded and bruised.

 

With the double doors to the kings, and his glory, in sight he quickly wiped the smile from his face. It would lend no credence to his story of being the victim of Geoffrey's lies if he went in there grinning like a cat. Apologetic perhaps was a better look, sliding into outrage and indignation when it became too hard to hold back a reaction.

 

With his expression suitably arranged he raised his hand to push the door, and gasped as a fist wrapped solidly around his wrist.

 

The hand pinched painfully tight as it pulled him backwards, wrenching his shoulder, and spun him around until his face hit the opposite wall. His body was slammed  against it a breath later while his arm was pulled further behind his back.

 

"Where is he?!" The snarl in Kay’s ear almost instantly calmed his pounding heart. For a moment he had actually been worried about his attacker.

 

“Arthur?” he questioned as he tried to move, but found the hands gripping him unwilling to let him do so.

 

“Kay,” Arthur greeted, his voice not sounding quite right. “Answer my question.”

 

Kay relaxed in the vice-like hold of the other prince. “Now Arthur, I don't think this is any way to treat your guest, I mean...” Kay paused as Arthur’s hand seemed to relax a little around his wrist. The pressure behind him eased, allowing him to move a fraction away from the wall. “Well, that's bette–” His words were cut off as fingers crawled into his hair and his face was suddenly slammed back into the stone even harder.

 

Fingertips pressed into his skull as Arthur leant close again. “Answer my question!”

 

“Urghh,” a groan was all he could manage for a moment. An odd metallic tang was in his mouth, and his nose really hurt. What the hell was Arthur playing at? This wasn't part of the rules. Not part of the plan.

 

“Geo...Geoffery...” he began to gasp as he felt those fingers tug at his hair again, readying to pull his head back.

 

“No.”

 

Arthur’s answer was as confusing as it was short, but before Kay had a chance to reply the prince was pulling him from the wall to stand upright. He tried to pull away but Arthur held him tight, his arm still bent painfully behind him. Without pause the prince began to half pull half march Kay back along the corridor he had just come from, and away from where the kings were waiting for him.

 

“No?” Kay asked.

 

“No. Don't lie to me,” Arthur answered, his voice tighter, after a moment of silence descended on them. “I know you have him. I saw you with him. Give him back to me, and you may just get out of this alive.”

 

Alive? Kay actually laughed out loud as they approached the door that led outside. Arthur had gone too far with his threat. He may give him a bloody nose but it was not like he was going to do anything else. He wasn't going to risk war because of a servant. Kay coughed a little as his own blood tickled his throat. “I...I don't think I can help you, Arthur.”

 

Arthur tightened his gip as he kicked open the door in front of them. “You don't have a choice.”

 

Kay smiled again. Arthur really was being very loose with his words tonight. There was always a choice in life, no matter what the situation. Like now for example, he had the choice as they stepped out into the moonlight whether to let this ridiculous charade continue or not. He chose not.

 

As Arthur pushed into him again, urging him forward, Kay pushed back, and using the prince’s confusion spun away to the side. Pulling his arm painfully from Arthur’s hold at the same time he freed himself completely.

 

Taking a breath he just stood there for a second, at the top of the stairs, and stared at the man now opposite him. He knew it was Arthur, it was dressed like him, and it certainly fought like him, but just like his voice the expression on his face was slightly off.

 

“Now maybe,” Kay blustered, shaking off his concern, “we can have a civilised conversation.”

 

Arthur just stared at him, cold and silent.  

 

Kay rubbed his hand across his nose and couldn't help wincing as pain shot through him. “Well, maybe not,” he amended. “I do believe you have broken the rules of our little engagement. I am sure our fathers will have something to say about...”

 

Arthur pounced forward with the aggression of an attack dog. His sword was drawn and his aim wasn’t to wound.  

 

Although few princes in the world could claim to be as trained as Arthur, Kay wasn't as far behind as most, and the sword he wore at his hip was not for display. His reaction to block Arthur's attack came more from instinct than him really thinking about it.

 

The clash of weapons echoed around the courtyard.

 

Arthur appeared in no mood to trade blows, however. Keeping his sword pressed against Kay’s, he stepped closer and closer, forcing Kay backwards.  

 

“Where is he?” That same demand came through gritted teeth this time.

 

Kay bit at his foul tasting lip. It appeared he had underestimated Arthur’s devotion to his servant. His mention of their fathers and all the rules Arthur was now breaking had apparently done nothing to impede his desire to have him returned.

 

“Dead.” Kay played his final card, spitting the word flecked with blood to the flagstones.

 

He had hoped to hold it back, to savour the moment a little more, but his arm was aching from its earlier mistreatment, and the pressure of holding Arthur’s weapon parried wore at his self-control. 

 

“NO!” Arthur's shout bust from him like thunder splitting open the night sky. He stumbled back, breaking their stalemate.

 

Kay just watched as more emotions than he could name flew across Arthur’s face.

 

This was better than he had ever expected, better than the plan, better than watching the colour drain from Arthur's face when Kay was named victor of their little competition.

 

Maybe just this once he had finally found the thing to break Arthur for good. Every year he had held hope that this would be the victory to beat him down, and keep him down. But it had never been enough. A story always rose of Prince Arthur's  latest heroic deed, and Kay's victory was wiped out. When he and his father returned to Camelot the following year Arthur was always strutting around as confident as ever before.

 

But as he watched, Arthur didn't crumble like he had hoped. Instead he raised his weapon and once more flew at Kay.

 

Surprised, Kay stepped sideways to dodge the sharp blade without looking, and found nothing there to support his foot. Stumbling, he landed awkwardly half on the next step of the stairs. Off balance and falling he grabbed the nearest solid thing he could, and held tight.

 

Arthur's grunt as Kay's fingers dug deep into his clothes was un-reassuring, and sure enough the pause in his descent was only that.

 

He and Arthur wrapped around one another and tumbled down the stone steps. Each bounce knocked the breath from his body with uncaring brutality. As suddenly as the fall had started it stopped, and he was left gasping for breath in an undignified heap. With a silent prayer for not having broken anything, he bared his teeth against the pain and forced himself to his feet the moment the world stopped spinning.

 

Looking around he was amazed to find he was the only one moving.

 

Arthur lay at his feet, curled, still, and with blood staining the stone below him.

 

For the first time since Arthur had grabbed him outside the great hall Kay felt a shiver of fright. He couldn't be found here. People would get entirely the wrong idea.

 

Without another look he began running for the main gate.  

He knew Arthur wasn't likely to be out for long, after all he’d heard enough stories about the prince’s damn near miraculous recovering ability, and Kay couldn't afford to be around when he woke. He had a promise to keep. One that couldn't wait if he was to have any chance of keeping Arthur where he belonged. 

Merlin needed to die.

 

***

 

“Alright this is the place.”

 

Merlin raised his head not at Geoffrey's words, but as the horse below him was brought to a stop. They hadn't travelled far, and Merlin's unconsciousness hadn't lasted anywhere near long enough for his liking.  When his eyes dragged open he recognised Camelot's forest in an instant. How could he not? He’d spent so much time in it with Arthur in the last year, it almost felt like he had grown up here.

 

"Come on." Geoffrey pulled at his leg when he failed to move.

 

Merlin forced his good arm against the horse and sat up. His head was spinning and he felt as if all his limbs were hollow. But from the way Geoffrey was pulling at him, it seemed either he dismounted himself or the other servant would drag him from his seat. 

 

Trying to find a small amount of dignity he bit his lip hard, using the resulting pain to sharpen his focus long enough to slide from the saddle. The moment his legs were forced to bare his weight however they gave way beneath him.

 

"Oh," his breath escaped him in a moan as he landed heavily on the forest floor.

 

Geoffrey just stared at him for a moment before grabbing at his stained shirt, dragging him half way to his feet and across the small clearing to where he had deposited their bags.

 

As Merlin rolled on the ground once more when Geoffrey let go, he fought against the urge to curl into himself and seek relief in unconsciousness. Flicking his eyes around him in an effort to fight off that promise of relief from his pain, he noticed his numb arm was curled into his stomach. After a moment of staring at his blooded limb he attempted to move his fingers.

 

"Oh!" another gasp forced its way past his lips as sparks flew behind his eyes. A thousand nerve endings flared all across his body, and his chest tightened until he found himself unable to breathe. Mouth open he gasped again and again for the precious oxygen that seemed to be evading him.

 

"Breathe," a soft voice ordered, and Merlin became vaguely aware of Geoffrey crouching down in front of him. Using the feel of the supporting hand holding his shoulder to ground himself, Merlin tried to do just that and pushed away the panic threatening to overwhelm him.

 

"Thank... you," Merlin finally managed to gasp, once his chest had stopped fighting him in taking a breath.

 

Geoffrey just shrugged and stood up with an ease that Merlin envied. "I don't want you dying before Kay turns up," he spoke tonelessly.

 

Merlin flicked his eyes around again. Kay was coming here? Why would he do that? In fact, why had they left the castle at all? Suddenly Merlin was confused. “What's happening?” he asked, his voice croaking.  

 

Geoffrey looked up at him from where he was crouching, trying to start a fire with some hastily collected wood. “Nothing you need worry about."

 

"Arthur?" Merlin questioned. Something must have happened, and he needed to know what.

 

"Ha!" Geoffrey just laughed. "You still believe your prince is going to come riding on out here and rescue you, don't you?"

 

Merlin blushed. He didn't know what he believed anymore. He only knew the desire that beat through his veins to see Arthur again, to be moaned at by him, to be ordered to do chores by him, to just hear his voice. The idea that he would never have that again was as painful as all his injuries combined. He felt the same panic as earlier, when he hadn't been able to breathe, threaten to overwhelm him again. Arthur was as essential to his heart as air was to his lungs, without either he was certain he would die.

 

Geoffrey said nothing more until the fire was started and he had retreated back to sit next to Merlin. “Tell me," he demanded, a strange expression on his face, "is it that you value yourself so highly or that your faith in him is so blind?"

 

Merlin shuffled awkwardly, trying to not wake any of his currently snoozing injuries, as he turned to face the fellow servant. "I am not blind,"  he grumbled, annoyed by the accusation. "And I am of no value. Arthur cares for all his people. He would fight for a servant just as willingly as for a Knight."

 

Geoffrey seemed to consider this for a moment. "Perhaps I was wrong," he admitted, throwing the small stick in his hand in the direction of the fire. "You're not blind, just deluded." 

 

Merlin sighed. For a few moments he had thought this man in front of him was the one who had spoken kind words to him before their race, the one who had come back for him when he was stranded by the wolf. But he was wrong. The true Geoffrey was the one who had handed Kay a cudgel to beat him with in the barn, the one who had landed a fist in his face during the competition, when the blade he had been holding would have ended things much quicker.

 

Merlin closed his eyes. If Geoffrey, Kay's servant, treated him this badly what did that bode for Kay himself? Although Merlin believed he didn't deserve to be in Arthur's service any longer, he also believed he didn't quite deserve Kay either. Silently he vowed to bide his time until he was strong enough to escape. Although where he would go, he wasn't sure. Ealdor held no real promise other than that of seeing his mother again, although to have to tell her he had failed would hurt. As he thought of his home town  he began to wish he had just complied when all those nights ago Arthur had asked him to go there.

 

"You have a lot to learn of the world, Merlin," Geoffrey spoke after a moment, and Merlin opened his eyes. "If princes had honour I would never have been here, and Kay wouldn't have had me do all..." he waved his hand absently at Merlin. "...that."

 

"And if noble men such as yourself  had honour," a voice suddenly spoke from the darkness, “you wouldn't have accepted payment to do it."

 

Turning as quickly as he dared to scan the tree line, Merlin's heart sank as through the flames of the fire he saw Kay emerge from the woods.

 

***

 

Arthur was astride a horse and in the forest before the blood streaking his forehead was even dry.

 

Leon had found him unconscious in the courtyard, and thankfully done nothing as stupid as panic or inform the kings. He had simply brought him round by calling his name coupled with a firm shake of his shoulder.

 

When Leon had related, in that calm voice of his, the news that Kay had been seen leaving the citadel, and that he had already dispatched George to fetch their horses so they could follow, Arthur was left wondering what he would have done without the ever-faithful knight.  

 

The answer, most likely, was that he’d have woken many hours later with a killer head ache and frost bite in places he daren't even imagine, or if he had been found by one of his more excitable guards, confined to bed before he could even object by an over-cautious Gaius. A few superficial bumps and bruises were not going to stop him now, no matter how much they bled.

 

The thought of not having Leon, or any of the few people he could trust implicitly, paled into insignificance when he dared to consider Kay had told the truth about Merlin.

 

He had known he had to find him even before seeing those blood stains that would haunt his nightmares. He had known he would follow from the very instant he had seen him leaving, but now he needed it as much as he needed his next breath.

 

He couldn't believe Kay, he wouldn't. Not until he held Merlin's lifeless body in his arms and could see for himself that he had been doomed to remain without the clumsy idiot forever.

 

A low whistle from Leon suddenly brought his thoughts back to the task at hand, and staring up ahead he saw the reason for it.

 

A plume of smoke curled high above the trees, clouding the relatively clear sky. It had to be them, it just had to be. They were too close to Camelot for it to be bandits, and any travellers this near to the city would have just continued on their journey finding a safer camp in the town.

 

Gesturing to both George and Leon to follow his lead, Arthur flung himself from the saddle and tied his horse to the nearest tree. 

 

Creeping through this forest with stealth and speed on the hunt for prey came as natural to Arthur as the smile he plastered on at banquets. It was something he had been doing his whole life, and he was good at it.

 

His eyes were on the small camp with a speed his heart appreciated. There was a badly made fire which seemed to generate nothing but smoke, a couple of horses, and the unmistakable shape of two men sitting on the far side of that fire, deep in the shadows of the trees surrounding them.  

 

Kay stood out in the open, calling out words Arthur wasn't quite close enough to make out. But he didn't care for the fellow prince. He continued to squint through the smoke into the shadows, desperate to confirm what his pounding heart was hoping. It was a fruitless task. The moon was too low in the sky to provide any help.

 

Creeping forward for a better view, Arthur suddenly froze when more words were exchanged and, despite not being close enough to hear them, he recognised the tone of one of the replies.  

 

Merlin. He was there.

 

A wide grin spread across Arthur’s face. He still could not set eyes on his servant, but it  didn't matter. Merlin was alive. Right now that was enough. In fact it was more than enough. It was everything.

 

As Kay began moving, crossing the small camp in a few quick steps and fading into the shadows of the far side, Arthur readied himself to do the same.

 

He narrowed his eyes further and tensed his muscles. Holding his hand up he was about to give his order to Leon and George to move when a shout broke the silence and Kay suddenly reappeared.

 

Stumbling backwards the prince held someone in front of him in an embrace of sorts. Someone of a similar height but far slimmer build. Someone with hair as dark as Kay's own.

 

"Merlin..." Arthur’s heart leaped further at the sight he craved and the name whispered past his lips.

 

His joy lasted only for as long as it took Kay to take two more steps. As the prince headed dangerously close to the fire Merlin slid silently from his arms. First to land heavily on his knees, and then when Kay's grip was completely severed to fall face down into the dirt.

 

Arthur was on his feet instantly. His eyes drawn to the weapon in Kay's hand. His last coherent thought leaving him as he watched blood drip from it.

 


	22. Chapter 22

Merlin groaned as he hit the floor. His mind spun. The last few moments of his life had passed so quick he barely understood what had happened.

Kay had come for them with lies and threats spilling from his lips at the same time.

"Arthur," he said as he walked nonchalantly towards them, "is currently spilling his royal blood all over Camelot's courtyard."

"You're lying!" Merlin's voice was far stronger than he felt as he shouted at the prince.

"Oh, but don't worry, little one," Kay continued as Merlin scrambled awkwardly to his feet, aided after only a moment's hesitation by Geoffrey, and a heart pounding anger that wiped away the pain he was feeling. "You'll be joining him soon enough. Maybe you can play servant and master in the afterlife."

Merlin's eyes widened as Kay drew his sword. He couldn't think what to do. His mind was blank. He had no weapon of his own. The magic that normally pounded through him, begging for release, was achingly missing. Desperately he looked around for help. His eyes momentarily rested on Geoffrey. The prince had cheated. Merlin understood that, and Geoffrey wasn't a servant. Yet still he was the only help Merlin could hope for.

Geoffrey didn't disappoint him. "Kay, is that really necessary?" he spoke up, only after breaking his gaze away from Merlin. "He is pretty hurt. I mean we could probably just leave him out here for the wolves or something."

"NO!"

Merlin hadn't had time to process Geoffrey's words before Kay's sudden shout. The response, as he stepped into the long shadows, was so childish and petulant Merlin had to stop himself from smiling. He had heard that tone from Arthur so many times. It was obviously a prince thing.

"I want him dead."

"But, Kay..." Geoffrey stepped forward, an argument ready on his lips.

Kay didn't even pause as he continued on his path, thrusting his sword straight into Geoffrey as if he were the original target.

Merlin gasped as Geoffrey fell to the ground at his feet with a single cry of shock and pain.

Not sated by the blood of his friend, Kay pulled his sword back and raised it again.

Merlin instinctively pitched forward, throwing himself at Kay. With his good hand curled into a fist, and his bad one still tucked protectively against his chest, he tried to hit the prince with all he had.

He fell short, his flash of anger only taking him so far. Instead of the amazing punch he had so clearly envisaged landing on Kay's jaw, he simply fell against him.

Merlin's momentum sent Kay stumbling backwards as he caught him, but the prince recovered his footing quickly.

Lacking any more energy to move, Merlin froze as he leant against Kay's chest for just a moment, before his legs gave way beneath him.

Snapping from his inactivity, Kay stepped back and pushed Merlin away from him, allowing him to fall.

The jolt that went through him as his knees hit the solid ground was enough to blind him with pain. He fell forward again as Kay shook away the last of his grip. He did not even have the energy to throw out his hand to try to stop himself from hitting the dirt face first.

Lying perfectly still on the ground, he fought desperately to keep his breaths coming in some kind of rhythm, as he stared across the dusty ground at the equally fallen body of Geoffrey.

Merlin wasn't sure Geoffrey had known what he was doing when he stepped forward like that and in-between him and Kay. Had he simply been unaware of the danger or had he believed his prince wouldn't harm him? No matter what the impetus was, it had failed to stop Kay's hungry sword making a home for itself in his soft belly, and it had failed to stop his death.

The man was dead. Merlin could see it in his eyes. That cold, empty stare he had seen more than he had ever hoped too, and now any moment he knew he would wear that look himself.

Turning away, he rolled his head forward and looked up. Kay was just staring down at him, his bloody sword at his side.

Merlin closed his eyes. He wasn't afraid of death. He had faced it many times for Arthur, even welcomed it. However, this felt like a hollow death, wasteful even, and he could see no reason to watch it coming.

As traitorous as it seemed, a small part of him hoped that Kay had been telling the truth. That Arthur had already passed. At least that way Merlin would get to see him again, and soon.

Without the visible stimulation of the world around him, Merlin felt time slow down, and his other senses heighten. He could feel the uneven ground below him, each of the rocks pressing strange patterns into is skin. He could feel a soft northerly wind crawling across the forest floor and wiping at the leaves.

He could smell the leather of Kay's scabbard heating up as he continued to stand too close to the fire.

He could hear his heart pounding, his own ragged breathing and a thundering of footsteps.

Footsteps?

Merlin's eyes snapped open just in time to see a flash of red break from the tree line with an angry roar.

Crossing the camp at full speed the stranger jumped over the fire, and barrelled directly into Kay sending them both crashing to the floor. Rolling repeatedly over one another they became a indecipherable tangle of limbs.

Only when they slowed and the victor, having apparently clawed his way to the top, had thrown his first punch did Merlin's eyes focus enough to recognise his saviour.

"Arthur?" His whisper sent sparks racing around his body, as his eyes widened at the form straddling Kay. He blinked twice to make sure his mind wasn't playing tricks with him. It wasn't. Arthur was here. He had come for him.

"Arthur. Arthur." Merlin began to feel light headed as the name whispered from him with each breath. Scrambling on the ground he tried to move, to sit up, but his body betrayed him, collapsing to the ground as his fingers slid in the dirt.

He almost growled in frustration. He could not give up now. He was so close to having his prince back. So close.

Gritting his teeth, he tried to press up again and that was when he felt it. Reassuring hands holding him, helping him move. Looking up he found a familiar face smiling down at him.

"Merlin," George gasped. "Are you alright? Let me help you."

***

 

Arthur could only see red, only red; the red of Merlin's blood staining his hands, his shield, the floor; dripping in a single drop down Merlin's pale white cheek, and as a stream running from Kay's dirty sword.

He could barely even hear the cries and whimpers from the man below him as he threw his fists down again, and again. The fire burning in his soul, to make someone pay for all that red, roared louder than anything.

"Arthur." After a while he heard a voice calling his name. A mere whisper against the storm in his head It was easy to ignore. "Arthur that's enough!" Strong hands began pulling at him, but he resisted. How could it be enough? How could the pain from his few punches even begin to compare to what he was feeling right now? Arthur would crawl on his hands and knees over broken glass just for a moment of peace from the horror that gripped at his heart. He had lived grieving every day for his mother but this fresh loss was on a different scale. It was so acute he had never felt anything like it before.

"Arthur please?" The hands pulled harder at him. They made his attacks inaccurate, wild even. But it didn't matter as long as he was inflicting some kind of pain on the creature below him, for he refused to think of him as a man let alone a prince.

It had killed Merlin, taken away the only thing that had stopped Arthur from drowning under his princely title, and Arthur now had to live with the fact that he had been too late to do anything about it, too late to save him.

It had at least had the decency to have stilled for now. He continued nevertheless. Again and again he hit out. He didn't care for rules, for regulations, he didn't care about anything he risked. He didn't care that his own hands were beginning to throb. As far as he was concerned, he could quite happily carry on doing this until one of them was dead. He didn't even care which one anymore.

"ARTHUR!"

This time he froze at the sound of his own name. A different voice called to him. One that just for a heartbeat had sounded like... he shook his head. No it couldn't have been. Raising his fist he tried to tune back in to his screaming anger.

"Arthur?" the call came again cutting through the noise in his head with an ease that surprised him. The voice sounded more pleading this time, and even more like... "Merlin?" the name escaped him even though he didn't want it to. The syllables tasted bitter in his mouth. The sound of it tightened the cage that held his heart.

"Yes, Arthur it's me, please just look."

Arthur closed his eyes stubbornly. He didn't want to look. His mind was playing tricks with him. He was so sure of it and it could only hurt more to confirm that fact.

"Arthur." Suddenly the voice was close. Close enough that it spoke his name softly now. "Look at me."

Arthur's eyes flickered, torn by indecision. But when a hand, smaller than the others that had assaulted him, rested gently on his shoulder Arthur's heart began to race. Could it be true?

Rolling his head to the side, he rubbed his cheek on that hand, resting it there after a moment. It was real, that much was true, and now he had to look. Even if it hurt, even if all he saw was an embarrassed knight standing behind him, and Merlin's body still lying where it had fallen.

Opening his eyes he twisted, and gasped as all the breath left his body in a single word. "Merlin?"

Sure enough, the man whose death he had just been so enthusiastically avenging stood looking down at him. Those sparkling blue eyes of his were glazed, he was slumped heavily on to George, he was streaked with blood and mud, but it was him.

Jumping to his feet with joy pounding in his veins, Arthur instantly forgot the man beneath him. His mouth opened and closed but no words came as he just stared at his servant, his eyes drinking in the sight as if they had been starved for years rather than moments.

He wanted to touch, to feel, he wanted so desperately to pull Merlin into his arms and never let go, but deep down some ingrained sense of propriety held him back.

Instead he reached out with a shaking hand and brushed a strand of hair from Merlin's forehead. The connection sent a fire burning down his spine. With his self-control rapidly dying he allowed his fingers to trail down Merlin's face, and to trace the wound on his cheek.

"You're not...?" he whispered his words as soft as his touch.

"No." Merlin grinned, wide, wonderful and messily. His hand came up to rest over Arthurs, and he turned his face slightly so Arthur could feel the smile against his palm. "Neither are you."

Arthur returned the silly grin and took the easiest breath he had taken in a day.

***

 

Kay groaned as he tried to take a deep breath, but the air only stuttered across his swollen lips. Consciousness was beginning to drip back to him and it wasn't a pleasant experience.

When Arthur had slammed him against the wall earlier, the small taste of blood had been unpleasant but it was nothing compared to the overpowering tang of copper he was experiencing now. He couldn't take a breath without it overwhelming his senses. It was all he could taste, all he could smell.

He attempted to open his eyes but they just throbbed and doubled the pain in his head in response. Another groan whimpered from his throat.

What had happened?

One moment everything had been going to plan, Geoffrey was dead, Merlin was on his knees, and then... Arthur!

The thought of the prince made him want to howl. Arthur hadn't even said a word when he attacked him. Not a word. His eyes had been distant, focused intently, but on something that wasn't Kay. His attack was punishing. Kay had known almost instantly he didn't stand a chance against him. He had tried to get his hands up but Arthur had just knelt on his wrists and pinned him down. He had never felt so helpless. It wasn't something he liked.

He would make Arthur pay. He swore it. He would make him pay for every one of those punches. Just wait until he saw his father.

As he remembered each of those punishing blows, he stirred, trying to move his aching body, but the effort just made his throat burn with bile. His head spun from nausea. He would give anything just to make the world stop moving below him.

"Arthur!" An unfamiliar shout far too close to him just made it worse. "He's waking up."

He could stand this no more. He had to see what was going on, he had to. Gritting his teeth, he pushed against the pain when it came again, and forced his reluctant eyelids open.

The world blinded him at first as it came rushing into vision, blurs of colours streaked with red. More blood of course, he realised. Slowly as the pink hues faded, he realised exactly why he felt as if the whole world was shifting below him.

It was.

He was on a horse. He lay forward on it, his head lying on its neck, in some kind of sick tribute to the way he had forced Merlin to ride earlier this evening. Curling his hands into fists in frustration, he almost screamed from the resulting pain. But as he looked down he realised the pain that had shot through them wasn't just from injuries inflicted. Rather the fact that they were tied to the saddle with unforgiving bonds.

Pressing his hands against the sturdy animal, he tried to sit up.

"No Kay, I don't think that's a good idea." Arthur's voice assaulted him as he heard another horse draw closer. "Don't hurt yourself."

Kay's face tried to twist in disgust but it barely managed to move. It was only then that Kay realised how swollen it must be, and how awful he must look. He smiled inwardly. The worse he looked the worse trouble he could make for Arthur.

Turning his head to the side, he dragged his eyes up the horse that was facing him, looking for the other prince. To his surprise, he found the face of a servant looking down on him, and not just any servant; Merlin. He stared silently at Kay, his eyes not lowering in subservience even for a second.

Kay smiled inside again as he noted how pale Merlin appeared, and how unfocused his insulting gaze was. Geoffrey had apparently been more skilled than he had given him credit for.

As Kay continued to stare however, he noticed Merlin's hands. Both of them were gloved and gripped tightly on the reins. Kay was confused. The servant had barely been able to move one of his hand's earlier without passing out.

As he unconsciously frowned and triggered a new wave of nausea, the horse Merlin sat upon turned slightly, and the abnormality was explained. Arthur was riding behind him. It was the prince's hands gripping those reins, and encircling the servant. Kay couldn't stop a snarl curling his lips. How uncouth to ride with a servant.

"This was a missstake," he slurred, his mouth as swollen as the rest of his face, when Arthur failed to speak. "You have ssstarted a...war."

Merlin looked satisfactorily aghast but Arthur just laughed.

"Kay," he sighed, "you don't seem to understand. I have only saved you this night, saved you from the clutches of your rogue man servant."

Arthur was right, Kay didn't understand. "You did thisss," he growled.

Arthur shook his head. "Geoffrey did this," he asserted. "Just as he infiltrated your household, cheated in the competition and inflicted Merlin's injuries. All without your knowledge of course."

Kay seethed silently. He wasn't a fool, and he wasn't about to admit to anything other than those statements, no matter how untrue they were.

"Morgana was fortunate enough to witness your abduction at the hands of Geoffrey," Arthur continued to weave his tale. "After you confronted him about his true identity he removed both you and Merlin from the castle, and brought you out to the forest. It was by his hand you received your wounds."

"Lies," Kay spat.

Arthur just smiled. "Truth," he corrected. "At least the truth our fathers believe. It has already been spoken from the Lady Morgana's mouth. On our return I will report that by the time I arrived to rescue you both…" He paused and Kay felt a different kind of sickness assault him as he saw a small blush warm Merlin's face. "…you had already overpowered Geoffrey, killing him in self defence."

Kay shook his head just slightly. "Why should I agree to this… _truth_?"

"Because it makes you a hero." Arthur's answer came quicker than Kay expected, and with a far better reason than he had expected. "And not a cheat who has abused his power, abducted a servant of Camelot and killed a knight of his own realm in cold blood." Kay's eyes just widened as Arthur brought his animal closer. "And it will keep you alive."

"What of your forger?" Kay demanded. Despite the tempting offer, he bristled at the threat, and he desperately needed to remind Arthur he still held a few cards.

"Merlin is returned to me," Arthur spoke confidently, not even flinching against the accusation. "As will the rest of the spoils from the competition. We shall call it a goodwill gesture."

"My words could cause trouble," Kay attempted a threat of his own as he realised they were long past subtlety.

Arthur's face tightened. "Your words are worth nothing without proof. My words on tonight's events are backed by at least four witnesses. You have just killed the only person who would confirm yours."

Kay's head dropped onto the horse. Arthur was right. He had the home ground advantage. Anyone in the castle would repeat what the prince asked them to, and without the spoils of the competition Kay had no money to pay them to say otherwise.

"Your answer, Kay?" Arthur demanded, his horse stamping its hoofs as if it could read its rider's impatience.

The only answer there could be was clear in Kay's mind, and yet it made his heart sick. Arthur unfortunately made sense. At least this way he could return home with a heroic tale. "Your terms and truth are acceptable," he sighed and closed his eyes again, preferring to wallow in his own pain than admit he was out done. It was going to be a very long time before he got over the fact that Arthur had beaten him when it had been most important.

***

 

As the towers of Camelot loomed into view, Arthur sighed with relief. Kay having agreed to his plan made his return a lot easier than it could have been. The other prince's arguments had pretty much stopped the moment he realised he had more to gain if he agreed. The threat probably hadn't hurt either. Under all his scheming Kay was a coward. Arthur had known it from the moment Kay had taken his guards with him to beat Arthur unconscious all those years ago in this very same forest, and nothing had changed since.

Merlin however was still a source of worry. He felt like a furnace in Arthur's arms, and his conversation had grown even more nonsensical than usual. Arthur knew he was hurting, and despite the boy's attempt to keep himself rigid and upright in his seat he had finally fallen back to rest against Arthur.

"You saved me," Merlin's sudden words were whispered so softly Arthur had to lean forward to catch them.

"I did," Arthur agreed reluctantly, and found himself wishing that Merlin wasn't about to thank him. To hear gratitude for saving him from something that Arthur was at least half responsible for in the first place would be unbearable.

Merlin heaved his chest to take a breath, and it seemed to sap all the energy he had built up. "Geoffrey said you wouldn't," he whispered, if possible his voice even lower.

Arthur's hurt clenched. "Did you believe him?"

Merlin's silence seemed to stretch long into the night, but Arthur managed only a single breath in the time it took for Merlin to find the courage to answer honestly. "Yes," he admitted.

"Then you're a bigger idiot than you look," Arthur teased, expecting an equally disparaging comeback. Merlin's lack of control over his tongue was the first thing Arthur had learned about the country boy, and it had grown to be one of the things he valued most. Not that he would ever admit it.

When no response came, Arthur looked down at the head resting on his chest and realised Merlin's eyes were shut. He had passed out again. With a deep sigh, Arthur kicked the horse to speed up. Merlin's injuries, the ones he had seen before, and the new ones desperately needed attention.

As the guards posted high on Camelot's watchtowers announced his return he looked down to Merlin one last time. "I will always save you," he promised closed eyes, words he could never say to open ones. "Always."

Thanks to his speed, and orders to Leon to hold back for as long as possible, when Arthur rode into the main courtyard he did so alone. Much to the surprise and shock of the welcome party.

"Arthur, what news?" His father was the first to step forward, as guards instantly surrounded his horse and began to pull Merlin from his arms.

Arthur ignored the king as unrestrained panic shot through him at the loss of contact with his servant. "No, no no no!" His distress at being parted from him tumbled from his lips before he could censor himself.

Jumping from his horse, Arthur pushed the guards aside and pulled the barely awake Merlin to lean on him. With Merlin's good arm around his own shoulders, he snaked his hand around Merlin's slim waist and held on tight.

As Gaius approached them, pushing past astonished looking guards, Arthur couldn't help eyeing even him suspiciously. It was irrational, he knew it. The whole journey home he had only cared for getting Merlin into the physician's care, but now they were here he couldn't bear to give him up into someone else's care. He wanted to be the one supporting him, protecting him. What if something else happened and he wasn't there? He had already let Merlin down so much this past week, he couldn't bear to do it again.

"I need to treat him, Arthur," Gaius spoke plainly and calmly.

Arthur nodded. He had no problem with that. But as the guards stepped forward again his grip tightened reactively.

"Trust." A single word flowed from Merlin as he turned his head to lay it near Arthur's ear. "Do you trust me?"

Arthur shivered. He had asked Merlin that same thing all those nights ago as they had sat side by side in his bedchamber. Arthur's answer passed his lips as quickly as Merlin's had then. "With my life."

"Then let me go, you will find me again when you need to."

Arthur's throat tightened. It sounded so much as if Merlin was talking about something more than him simply being on the other side of the castle. But still there was a truth in his words. One that Arthur knew now more the ever before. He would find Merlin again if he was ever lost, because he would never stop looking until he did.

With a slow nod he loosened his grip, and allowed one of the more familiar guards to shoulder Merlin's weight.

Before his arms even had time to register their emptiness, Morgana was there beside him, slipping her arm in to his and turning him away from the sight of Merlin being taken away from him. With a reassuring squeeze of his arm, she winked at him quickly when he met her eyes. With no more encouragement from him than the raise of his eyebrows, she began pulling him towards the kings.

Once Arthur was back in his father's eye line he forced his head high and straightened his shoulders. It would not be enough to appease his father, he knew that. He had probably just embarrassed himself beyond redemption, but it was a long formed habit that he didn't think he would ever break. Thankfully, James stepped forward before Uther could utter a word of his badly hidden anger.

"Where is my son?" the king questioned.

Arthur took a deep breath, and recounted his conjured tale. It fitted perfectly with what they had already been told, and James nodded, accepting every fact as Arthur invented it.

"Come," Uther gestured when Arthur had finally finished, "let us return to the hall and wait for Kay's return. It seems he will have a tale to tell us too."

Arthur opened his mouth to say that with Kay's injuries he was unlikely to be telling any tales soon, but closed it again. If his father knew of Kay's injuries he would just pull Gaius away from Merlin, deeming the fellow prince to be the more important to treat. It had been Arthur's fear of this that made him ask Leon to hold back in the first place. So Instead he just smiled and stepped forward to follow the kings.

Morgana slipped from his arm the moment she could, claiming her bed was calling. Arthur felt himself stiffen with jealousy when his father just waved her away. He knew exactly where she was planning on going and it wasn't to her chambers.

"Tell me?" he whispered as he turned and pretended to say goodbye.

She nodded with a sad smile. "The moment anything happens you will know," she promised.

When finally he turned back, Arthur was amazed to find only his father in the corridor in front of him. He was even more surprised that when he drew close Uther's hand landed on his shoulder.

"Arthur," he said, his tone not giving away any hint of emotion, "you are my son, and I know when you are lying."

Arthur felt a shard of ice shoot through his belly. His father's hand suddenly felt like a dead weight. His throat was instantly dry. "I..."

Uther suddenly smiled. "Kay didn't escape on his own, did he? You saved him, didn't you?"

Arthur felt a wave of relief spin his head in a circle. "I...I cannot confirm that father," he stumbled when he realised Uther was still waiting for an answer. He didn't exactly want to lie further, but his father's praise was hard to win, and he craved it now just as strong as he had his whole life.

Uther smiled and clapped him on the back. "As I thought. Well done."

Arthur smiled. Gaining his father's respect had never even figured into his plan, but it certainly wasn't unwelcome.

The bonding moment passed as quickly as it had come, when Uther's hand suddenly tightened and his grip became almost painful. "Oh but Arthur," he continued almost as if the words had just occurred to him, "if you ever show your servant such favour again, I will have him removed from court."

Arthur caught his panic and swallowed it hard before it showed on his face. The casual threat was the worst thing he could hear from his father's mouth. He knew exactly what was meant. He had seen people removed from court before. They weren't exiled, or even executed after a period of imprisonment and a trial. They just disappeared from their beds one night. Never to be seen or spoken of again.

He would not, could not let that happen to Merlin.

"Yes father." He nodded around the lump that had formed in his throat. "I understand."

As Uther nodded and turned away without a single word, Arthur let the idea that he would soon be by Merlin's side drift away into the night. No matter what the cost he would save Merlin, just as he had promised.


	23. Chapter 23

It was almost dawn by the time Arthur finally managed to escape from the king's audience, and stagger to his room. The relief he should have felt as the heavy door closed behind him, shutting out a nights worth of lying, was noticeably missing. Instead, all he was aware of was a bone-crushing ache.

"Arthur?"

As the only other person in the room called to him, he rolled his eyes up and stared. He had seen her the moment he entered the room, perched on the edge of his bed. But resting back against the door he had closed his eyes hoping she would be gone once he opened them.

Now as he met her smiling face he couldn't help but wonder how many men in the citadel alone would kill for this experience, to find the Lady Morgana on their bed waiting for them? He shook his head slightly. It didn't matter. Even if she wasn't practically his sister he would be incapable of appreciating the sight. He cared for exactly one thing alone right now.

"Tell me," he whispered, repeating the last words he had spoken to her even as his mind screamed at him not to.

"He is well," she beamed, bouncing to her feet with energy no sane person should have at this time. "More stitches than I could count, an infection that will take days to break, and bruising as black as the night, but Gaius has no fears anything will be permanent."

Arthur could have collapsed with relief. In fact, his head fell forward in that exact movement his body craved.

"Have you only just got away?" she questioned moments later and he heard her footsteps draw close as she crossed towards him.

Arthur just nodded. Words seemed out of his grasp for now.

"You can still go to him," she added softly. "Gaius has only just been called away to Kay. He is alone."

If Arthur had more energy, he would have smiled at the thought of Kay only just arriving. He had never imagined Leon would be able to drag out that short journey this long. He must have circled the castle at least ten times.

With a deep breath, Arthur pushed himself away from the door and raised his head. "I'm not going," he said as coldly as he could, imitating his father's tone. "Not today, not tomorrow. Don't ask me again."

Morgana's face twisted in disbelief. "Why?"

"He is just a servant," Arthur attempted a bold lie. "I do not need to. I will see him when he returns to duties."

Morgana squinted at him as if trying to read something on his face. Arthur tightened his jaw in an effort to hide whatever it was she was looking for.

"No no no!" she snapped, obviously finding it despite his efforts. "Do not let your father achieve in one night what Kay has been attempting all week. Do not let him force you away from your friend!"

"He is not my friend!" Arthur snapped, the denial coming so easily.

Morgana's instant flare of anger at his words faded far quicker than Arthur had been expecting. So much so that by the time her widened eyes were relaxing she was shaking her head, and looking at him with what looked a lot like pity. "Arthur Pendragon," she sighed, "you are as blind as your father."

Arthur felt the accusation like a punch to his chest. He wasn't blind. He knew Merlin wasn't just a servant to him, just as he knew he wasn't just a friend. Merlin was nothing more and nothing less than just Merlin. The person that woke him up every morning and the person that Arthur wanted to wake him up every morning. He was the person whose face Arthur sought out in a crowd when he needed reassurance, or comfort or to share a secret with. He was the one Arthur wanted around him more than any other, the one he missed when he wasn't. But Arthur couldn't allow that, not anymore, not when it put him at risk. Wasn't it his 'fondness' as his father had put it that had brought Merlin to Kay's attention to begin with? The more he thought of it the more he was certain it was. Kay had wanted to win as always but it had never turned so personal before. If Arthur hadn't fought so hard to keep Merlin away from Kay would the other prince have pursued him so hard?

As his mind found a thousand questions he didn't have answers for Arthur just stared at Morgana in silence. When really he wanted to fall to his knees, grab at her skirt and beg for help. "Tell me how?" he wanted to demand, his eyes shedding forbidden tears. "How can he mean more to me than friend and servant, when that just puts him in danger?"

Quickly he turned away from her, fearful of giving in to those compulsions. Closing his eyes, he reached for his cold tone once more, and spoke the only words that he could allow. "Goodnight Morgana."

The slam of his door was her only response.

Spinning on his heel, he made it all the way to the side of his bed before he really did fall to his knees.

Reaching as far under the frame as he could he searched for the only thing he could think of to give him some relief. His fingers found it with ease, and just the sight of his small dusty chest, as he slid it from its hiding place, lifted his spirits.

Everything that was of any importance to him was there in that chest. The most important being the unopened letters his mother had written him. On top of them however was a scrap of red fabric that he couldn't remember placing there, and had been a surprise he had found on last opening. He had stared at it unbelieving for a long time before removing it, and running the coarse fabric through his hands. He had no idea how Merlin's red neckerchief had ended up there, but that hadn't stopped him from refolding it and replacing it where he had found it.

Running his fingers across the top of the carved lid, he wondered if there would be any other surprises waiting for him this time.

There weren't, all was as he had left it. Right at the very top a small, fragile pebble of wax lay on top of the red cushion.

He had found the wax coin the very night they had created it. His mark on one side, Merlin's on the other. Merlin must have discarded it onto the bed spread in his haste to get dressed after Morgana's arrival. Their subsequent argument had obviously wiped all memory of it away.

Arthur had slept with it in his hand that night the only way he had been able to hold a connection with his angry servant. In the morning, he had hidden it away in this box. A reminder of a moment in time they had shared, a moment in time Merlin had given Arthur his trust.

Tonight Merlin had asked of Arthur the same. He had given it willingly and without thinking.

Over the coming few months he would be likely to destroy that trust, and prove himself a liar. He would force them back into their rigid roles, break gazes long before he wanted to, and spend no more time than was necessary with his servant. He would have to if he had any chance of rebuilding all those walls around his heart and mind that Merlin had been steadily demolishing.

Closing his hand around the coin, he realised exactly how desperately he didn't want to do that, and therefore how necessary it was.

Morgana was right in that his father's cruel threat was the same as Kay's had been. They wanted to take Merlin away from him, and he only knew one way to respond to that.

With a deep sigh he forced himself to his weary feet, crossed to the table and retrieved a small dagger.

***

 

Merlin waited and waited and waited.

His eyes grew so heavy he was forced to rub at them viciously every few seconds, his body begged him, pleaded with him. Still he waited, and fought off sleep as viciously as he had fought against that sweet smelling cloth Gaius had tried to press against his face. He had taken the tablets Gaius had given him to numb the pain willingly, but the rag he had known would take it further than that. It would force him into an artificial sleep. He had been unconscious more than enough today, thank you very much, and it was the last place he wanted to visit again. So the second he felt it coming he had held his breath until his lungs had felt they were going to burst. But it had worked, and with only a little play acting in his part, Gaius had been fooled into starting work with Merlin fully aware of his every move. Merlin had felt it all; the poking, prodding, cleaning, burning, and eventually the stitching. He had felt the cold cloth Gwen had kindly held against his forehead, and he had heard Morgana arrive, enquiring after him with concern he was sure he didn't deserve. Then when finally all was done for him he had watched them all leave, albeit in Gaius' case reluctantly as he was summoned to go and help fix Kay. Merlin had wanted to warn him at that point, tell him of the damage Arthur had inflicted, but that would have just blown all his good work, so he silently watched the physician leave with far too few supplies.

Now alone he was finally able to sit up on his bed fully conscious and flick his eyes from the door to the ever-lightening scene outside his window.

He was waiting for him, for the only person who mattered, for Arthur.

It had hurt more than he could describe when he had convinced him to let go earlier. From the moment they had declared each other alive in the forest, Arthur hadn't broken contact with him once. The sense of loss when finally he did was so acute Merlin had struggled to breathe. He had needed to do it for Arthur's sake. He may have only been half aware of his surroundings but even in his confusion he knew the king would never approve of Arthur's actions, and he didn't want his prince to get in any more trouble than he was probably already in.

"You will find me again when you need to." Merlin's own words came back to haunt him, as he realised dawn was breaking and that Arthur wasn't coming. The prince obviously hadn't needed to find him after all.

With his last hope he gave a final look towards the door, and swallowed hard. The figure he had been craving all this time stood there staring at him with unblinking eyes from under a heavy hood.

He tried to smile but he couldn't. Arthur looked so tired, so worn out, so unhappy.

"Don't say anything," the prince whispered as entered the room, lowering his hood only once he had closed the door behind him. "I can't stay, and I won't be here again. I just needed..."

Arthur trailed off and Merlin opened his mouth to question him, but swallowed his words when he noticed the pleading look in Arthur's eyes that he obey his order just this once. His heart began to ache. Something had happened, he knew it, he could see it. He would give anything to know what it was. Surely tonight was a celebration, he was home, and Kay was beaten. So why did Arthur look so wretched?

Moving his legs on the bed he created a space for Arthur to sit, but was surprised when the prince shook his head and just sank to the floor next to him instead. Resting his back against the bed, Arthur turned his face up towards the small window Merlin had been watching.

Robbed of words Merlin was at a loss how to ease whatever burden it was that Arthur appeared to be carrying. Silently he watched as the first rays of the morning broke across Arthur's face. It should have been a beautiful sight but the anguish in Arthur's eyes shattered the illusion.

Sliding down the bed Merlin lay down as best he could and reached his hand out to rest on Arthur's shoulder. He knew it was unlikely the prince was craving contact between them as much as he was, but it was all he could think of to offer comfort.

Arthur's hand instantly gripped his and pulled it further around his chest until Merlin could feel Arthur's heart pounding below his fingertips. Merlin was wrong, he realised as Arthur's head moved to rest gently against Merlin's arm. Arthur did need this, he did need Merlin.

The fact that he was showing it only frightened Merlin further.

However when Arthur's fingers intertwined with his, Merlin's throat tightened, and his fear faded. He bit his lip forcefully in an effort to keep his silence when Arthur continued to move and pulled the hand he now held up to his mouth. Laying his lips gently on the back of Merlin's hands Arthur began to mouth silent words Merlin couldn't understand.

Full of conflicting emotions Merlin turned to stare resolutely up at the ceiling. As frightened as he was for what had upset Arthur so, he was even more fearful of what he might do if he continued to watch Arthur nuzzle into his arm and whisper secrets into his skin. Just the feel of Arthur holding him tight was almost enough to make him lose all self-control, but the sight was proving too much.

Eventually Arthur's words stopped, and he dropped Merlin's hand back to his chest. Leaving it resting there, grasped below his own, as if that were its natural home.

Merlin sighed as the silence that had never been broken stretched out once more.

Despite his heart beating so fast he felt certain Arthur must be able to hear it, he began to relax. Arthur's presence, as always, prompted in him a reassuring comfort, a feeling of safety, and of being home.

As the sands of time continued to trickle past Merlin found himself lulled by the sound of Arthur's breathing, the rise and fall of his chest. His eyes began to droop again, but he could not bear to break from Arthur's hold to force them open. Reluctantly he allowed them to close.

The moment he felt sleep attempt to overtake him, he forced his eyes back open, and felt his heart lurch.

Sun streamed brightly into his room, and Arthur was gone. His arm hung limply over the bed, cradling nothing but air. Sleep had conquered him before he had even realised and what was left of the night had passed in the blink of his eyes.

A dreadful though that perhaps Arthur's appearance had just been a dream assaulted him and tears sprang to his eyes before he could stop them. The memory of Arthur's lips caressing the back of his hand wasn't something he was willing to give up.

Pulling his arm back towards him, desperate to see if those royal lips had left some kind of mark, he realised something was resting in the cup of his hand. Fearful he brought it closer still and looked down. As he recognised the item, a single tear escaped his prickling eyes and weaved a staggered path down his cheek.

There in the palm of his hand was the small coin of wax he and Arthur had created. Gasping past the lump in his throat, he blinked furiously at it. The small indent of his hesitant finger was as clear as when he had first seen it.

The sight of the small token was enough to distract him from all the pain that was slowly building as each of his injuries woke up. He couldn't believe Arthur had not only kept it but had given it to him, least of all because it meant that his strange visit had been real.

Flipping the wax over in his hand, he searched for the imprint of Arthur's palm. What he found was enough to bring forward even more tears. The impression was completely obliterated by the crude carvings of a blade. A single word stood out instead.

Merlin closed his hand around the coin and held it against his chest. Deep in the pit of his stomach, he had a sickening feeling that the message was not just for what had happened but for what was still to come.

Closing his eyes, he hoped Gaius would be along any moment with that sweet smelling rag of his, because right now oblivion seemed preferable to trying to work out why Arthur was 'sorry'.

***

 

Fin.


	24. Epilogue

Merlin stood silently outside Arthur’s door. It was early. The sun had barely shaken off the night. In his good hand he held the plate containing Arthur’s breakfast. His other, still stiff and held together by Gaius’ stitches, lay resting lazily in the sling that had been created for it.  

The door in front of him was open, just a crack, but enough to make his heart sink. It had been like that yesterday too, and he was fearful it was going to forever remain that way.

Two days ago, he had decided to return to his duties. Well, in truth he had decided before then but two days ago was the first time he had managed to last a whole day without taking some of the potions Gaius had been plying him with, and actually wake up early enough that the physician was still asleep and he could sneak out past him.

It had taken longer than normal to get Arthur’s breakfast that morning. All the kitchen staff and nearly everyone he met wanted to chat and wish him well. It was nice, flattering even, but all he wanted was to make his way up to this door and find Arthur.

The prince had stayed true to his word for the whole two weeks Merlin had been cooped up in his room; he hadn’t seen Arthur once, not after that night. No one had, Gwen promised him when she visited. The prince had been keeping to himself. Merlin wasn’t sure whether he believed her or she was just trying to ease his pain at the absence, which he couldn’t hide.

When finally he reached this door on the first morning Merlin had found a problem. The door was closed and he had no free hand with which to open it. As his heart pounded in his chest he just stared at it, as if the power of his gaze alone would open it. It could have done of course, but what with the ever-present guards, now staring at him, it wasn’t an option he could risk. His mind spun with a hundred different options, each as ridiculous as the others.

Eventually he had just tried to attack the handle while still holding the plate. It hadn’t gone well. The plate had slipped; crashing to the floor with a sound that he was certain was only so loud because of the early hour.

The guard at the end of the hall, possibly the only person who hadn’t wanted to chat with Merlin that morning, leapt forward in surprise but upon seeing Merlin fell back to the wall.

Rolling his eyes, Merlin instantly dropped to his knees and began to clean up the mess.

A moment later the door wrenched open and the sight he had been craving so hard was there in front of him, complete with bed hair and bare chest.

“WHAT IS ALL THIS...?” Arthur’s angry shout, which had started inside the room, died quickly. “…Merlin?”

Merlin shivered as Arthur whispered his name breathlessly. He was lost for words as his throat dried almost instantly.  His eyes caressed Arthur’s skin in a path that his hands begged to be allowed to follow. The quickly fading restraint that held him back had them simply shaking instead. Arthur looked good. There was no way he could deny it. He felt as if he were seeing him for the first time again. The two weeks absence of this man in his life, the longest time since arriving in Camelot that he had been apart from his prince, seemed even more unbearable now that he was faced with what he had been missing. 

All the small details of Arthur body that he had grown so used to, came rushing back with dizzying speed, in vivid colour, and with a strength of desire that rocked him.

From the broadness of Arthurs chest, to the curve of his hip bone as it disappeared into his sleeping pants and everything in-between called to Merlin with a Siren’s voice.  He found himself longing to reacquaint himself with each and every one of the scars littering Arthur’s body. The knowledge that he had felt them beneath his fingertips before as he had dressed the prince, did nothing to sate his hunger.   

Suddenly he realised that his desperate need to return to work harboured a much baser desire than he had let himself believe.

Fearful of betraying himself if he didn’t, he dragged his eyes up to meet Arthur’s wide ones, and time slowed so much that a single heartbeat felt as if it lasted a lifetime. Arthur’s eyes were just as appealing as the rest of him, and silently they just starred at each other. Despite his distraction Merlin couldn’t help but notice Arthur appeared as shaken by their reunion as he was; his mouth was open just a little, and his breaths seemed hastier than they needed to be.

“What are you doing?” the prince demanded, eventually shaking himself out of the stillness.

Merlin swallowed hard and moved to stand up the best he could. “I…I…” he stumbled as he attempted to remember which side of that fine line he normally walked was the appropriate one. Suddenly he remembered the plate, and held it out as a way of explanation. “… I  was trying to return to my duties.”

 “Do you normally roll my breakfast around the floor before I get it?” Arthur hid a smile but not before Merlin saw it.

Merlin shrugged and fought against the wince that his body responded with. It may have been a while since he received his injuries but they still hurt. More so today after abstaining yesterday from all the potions Gaius had offered him, uncertain which one was keeping him asleep most of the day.

“I couldn’t open the door.” He moved his sling a little to draw Arthur’s attention to it.

Arthur’s eyes flicked down briefly before he turned away from him. “You can have light duties if you wish,” he spoke quietly. “Bring me breakfast, but I don’t expect to see you for the rest of the day.”

Merlin had been crushed. “Yes..ssSire.” the word had stuck in his throat as he tried to say it, that thin line looking thicker by the moment.

Yesterday had been a little different. Arthur was already awake, and dressed by the time Merlin had arrived with his breakfast, and the door was slightly ajar, easing his passage. Just as it was this morning.

Merlin sighed. He didn’t want this, didn’t want this mock return to his roll. He just wanted everything to be back to normal. He wanted to find Arthur still snoring in the morning, wanted to wake him with a self indulgent touch, to dress him, and perhaps most importantly to spend the day by his side.

Pushing the door slightly, Merlin stepped inside and found that yes, Arthur was up once more. He sat silently at the table and didn’t even look up as Merlin stepped forward to place the plate on the table in front of him.

 “Merlin?”

Arthur’s gentle call came just as he returned to the door, and Merlin stopped instantly. Spinning he met Arthur’s raised eyes eagerly.

“Yes?” he questioned when the prince hesitated. Anything, he wished in his head, ask me anything but to stay away again.

“I want you to stay close today,” Arthur muttered half reluctantly as he turned to stare at his breakfast as if it were the most important thing he had ever seen. “Find me an outfit,” he waved in the direction of his armoire. “Our guests are leaving today, and we must be suitably attired.”

Merlin’s heart leaped not only at the fact that finally Kay would be out of the castle but purely for spending a little time with Arthur. Perhaps things could go back to normal after all. Perhaps Arthur just needed a little time to forgive him, forgive him for being stupid enough to get hurt, forgive him for losing to Geoffrey, forgive him for making him have to save him.

Those fragile hopes of Merlin’s began to fade as the rest of the morning passed pretty much in silence. Arthur only just grunted his approval at the shirt Merlin picked out for him, before snatching it from his hand and throwing it over his own head.

Standing a couple of steps behind Arthur out in the courtyard, Merlin couldn’t help comparing this morning to the one when Kay had arrived. Then Arthur had been chatty, playful even, until Kay had arrived, and Arthur had sent him as far away as possible. Merlin had felt embarrassed and a little hurt. Now, although Merlin felt the same, Arthur’s actions were the exact opposite. He was being moody and quiet, but as Kay moved along the long line of dignitaries, Arthur didn’t mutter a word to send him away.

Fighting not to shy away as Kay approached ever closer, Merlin was determined to stay where Arthur had pointed. He felt a need to prove himself all over again to the prince.  

Suddenly Arthur’s hand reached out behind him and he gestured for Merlin to step closer.

 Confused, Merlin did as he was told with a deep dread in his stomach. Maybe things weren’t so different. Was he about to be sent away again with sharp words?

His fear couldn’t be further from the truth; the moment he was in range Arthur’s hand buried itself in his tunic and pulled him even closer. Despite Merlin stumbling Arthur didn’t let go until Merlin found himself pressed tight against the prince’s back.

Merlin’s confusion was washed away as Kay’s shadow drew over them. Arthur was showing him off. He was showing that he had won, that Merlin was still his.

Merlin sighed just gently. As much as he loved the feel of Arthur pulling him close, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to be a trophy. His hesitance didn’t seem to matter however. Kay seemed to be getting the message. His face screwed up with disgust as his eyes drifted over Arthur’s shoulder for a moment and met Merlin’s for the first time since their forest escapade.

“Arthur,” Kay suddenly boomed, a false smile spread across his face, looking for all the word as if he was greeting his best friend. “What a shame our time has been so short, but I guess at least there is always next year.”

Arthur opened his arms wide and pulled Kay into a friendly embrace. “Return again next year,” he whispered in a tone so low Merlin had to strain to hear it, “and I will slaughter you in your bed. War be damned.”

As the princes let go of one another Merlin was certain Kay had paled at least three shades beneath the now yellowing bruises that covered his face. Arthur’s threat had been issued with such ice and promise even he felt a little shaken by it.

Kay moved away without another word, and was pressing kisses against the lady Morgana’s hand within a heartbeat.

Although Arthur had already let go of him, and Merlin was free to step back at this point, he couldn’t bring himself to. He felt important standing there next to Arthur, and he had missed it with a passion he hadn’t truly realised until now.

Watching as the entire Lympne household began to mount up, Merlin felt the smallest touch of regret as Kay reached for his horse. As satisfying as it was to know Arthur had beaten Kay senseless for all he had done to Merlin, Merlin couldn’t help but wish he had done something himself to get Kay back for all the trouble he had caused. Suddenly a naughty, childish thought occurred to him, and before he could shoo it away, he felt his magic lunge forward and act on his impulse.

Leather straps slid silently through buckles, and as Kay reached up to pull himself astride his horse, the saddle came undone under his hands, sending him backwards into the mud. With the saddle attached to nothing but his own hands Kay hit the ground with a bone shuddering thud, and a howl that could have woken the dead beneath their feet had the prince been born of magic.  

Merlin couldn’t help but snigger, along with half the assembled company, as Kay floundered, confused as to what had happened and flushed with rage for whoever had caused it.  It was but a moment before he was descended on by a handful of servants fighting with one another to help him up, but the simple humiliation had been enough and was gratifying beyond belief.  

***

Arthur’s blood pounded to have Merlin pressed into him. It was wrong. He knew he should have been pushing him away the moment Kay had passed, but having held him at arms length for the last few days his resolve was wavering.

Turning his head slightly he allowed himself to look at his manservant rather than leave his eyes any longer on that which he despised.

Merlin looked pale, paler than usual if that was possible. He also looked a little ruffled, not perhaps outwardly, for his clothes were the same as ever, but internally. beneath that frozen face, and forced smile, Arthur could tell there was something going on. Desperately he wished to know what it was, to hold him tight and shake him until all his secrets came out, but his father was only a couple of people away, and Arthur had already risked too much in hauling Merlin close to him as it was. He didn’t doubt if he tried manhandling his manservant further, his father’s threat would be carried out by the end of the day.

Just as his heart began to ache he noticed the sun reflected in Merlin’s eyes. The image took his breath away. Merlin’s deep blue eyes seemed to change colour completely, shining a rich gold for the briefest of moments, just like they had on the tournament field all those days ago. His mouth dropped open, but before he could compose a sentence a shout and a cry pulled his attention. Kay was rolling on the floor, apparently having fallen from his horse.

As Merlin chuckled at the side of him, his moving chest sending sparks through Arthur’s body, the prince turned away.  He didn’t care about Kay any longer, and he didn’t want to be out here, scared to even share in the joke with his manservant for fear of his father seeing.

 “Merlin,” he snapped, turning with the intention of returning to his rooms.

“Sire?” Although he followed without missing a step, Merlin’s voice waved as he answered and Arthur watched as flicker of fear cross the boy’s eyes. He had seen that same flicker this morning, and he knew why it was there. Merlin feared Arthur was about to send him away again. He was right, Arthur had been about to, but the fact that Merlin feared it hurt Arthur deeply.  Apparently he was not the only one suffering from their necessary estrangement.

Arthur shook his head as doubt nagged at him. He needed to do this. He needed to be alone, to have space so he could think clearly; not shot through with guilt, as if it was him who had broken Merlin’s wrist, every time he even glimpsed that white slash of fabric cradling Merlin’s arm. He needed… His reasoning failed him as he stared at Merlin’s waiting eyes.

“Follow me,” he spoke again, trying to keep emotion from his voice. “I have some business this afternoon you might appreciate.”

The words had come easy, as truthful as they were, but Arthur quickly realised being in Merlin’s presence was harder than he had been expecting. The boys face had lit up like a candle flaring into flame for the first time at his words, and he hadn’t stopped grinning since. Arthur so far had managed to control his own urge to smile, not that it wasn’t burning inside him. Just having Merlin there, around him, felt right. Even when they weren’t talking or even interacting, just having Merlin in his room, in his presence felt more natural than when he wasn’t. It just reminded him of what he was missing, and what he needed to give up.

 

***

 “Father!” Kay called, as he raced through the forest and attempted to catch up with the front of their convoy. “Father.” Gripping the reins of his horse tightly, Kay pushed the animal harder as he drew close. As fearful as he was of making another show of himself he was even more fearful of not righting the wrongs he had committed.

“Father,” he spoke once more as finally he arrived next to the king.

James didn’t respond. In fact he didn’t even turn his head to acknowledge his son. Kay took a deep breath and continued nevertheless.

“Sire,” he addressed him formally, hoping the title would carry favour, “I am sorry.”

James continued to look forward. “Yes,” he spoke eventually. “I would guess you are.”

“I…” Kay stumbled. He wasn’t sure what else he could say. “Next year I will bring a better knight,” he offered. “We will win for sure. Geoffrey was a liability. I shouldn’t have…”

“Geoffrey is the only thing you did right!” James snapped, his head whipping around to stare at his son. “With the tale of his son’s disobedience and violence against you, Lord Blaze will be forced to add his lands to ours, in an apology that is worth a great deal more than yours.”  

Kay sat back in his saddle, a little stunned. Suddenly he understood why his father had not only agreed to his plan of using a knight against Arthur but had actually suggested Geoffrey for the job.

“You wanted me to be discovered!” he accused, a dangerous anger pounding through him.

James’ eyes narrowed. “It was not by intent.” His words were cold and calculated. “But It did no harm. Arthur is smarter than you gave him credit for. We are richer for knowing that.”

“No harm!” Kay was positively shaking now, and his hand moved up to indicate his bruised face. “Arthur did this!”

“I know.” James just shrugged. “His lies are about as good as yours. At least he had the imagination to create something better than falling out of a tree!” James laughed slightly at that. 

Kay bristled at his father’s mocking. “Next year…”

“Next year I will bring your sister or maybe your baby brother,” James spoke over his son. “It would seem a child could give Arthur a better challenge than you.” 

“I have done as you asked. I have won every year,” Kay argued. Although hurt by his father’s harsh words, he knew that showing it would only make them worse.

James just laughed again. “My knights have won every year!” he corrected. “And even though you found a weakness this year, you could still not press it home. Instead you come sniffling to me with tales of his fist on your face. What did you truly expect me to do, go to war just because you’re not man enough to stand up to Arthur Pendragon?”

Kay shrank into his saddle. His father’s criticism, although not unusual, still affected him. “Why not?” he attempted to argue. “You are no friend of Uther’s.”

James actually pulled his horse to a stop and as a hundred others behind them attempted to do the same he just stared at his son.

“Friends?” he repeated. “Of course we are not friends. What do you think we do? Sit around discussing the weather, and how many times our sons have let us down since we last meet? We discuss our enemies, their weaknesses and their strengths, the whole time trying to determine those attributes in each other. If you could see further than your petty feud with Arthur, you would see Camelot is not ready to fall yet. One day it shall be ours, but I have seen too many die in failed attempts. We will take it when it is ready to be taken.”

Kay was stunned into silence. This was the most his father had ever confided in him. So as much as he had let himself and his father down, the fact that it had led to this meant he could not bring himself to regret it. Besides, he could not think of a better way of getting his revenge against Arthur than to take away his crown. That was far better than just denying him his servant.

“I will earn for you Camelot’s throne, father. However you wish me to behave, I am your servant.” He lowered his head respectfully, vowing himself to the cause he could believe in.

James just stared at him before kicking his horse forward. “We shall see,” he muttered. “If not, I am sure one of your brothers will.”

Kay bit his lip at the taunt and allowed himself to drop back. He would not argue any further with his father, but he would also not let his veiled threat come to pass.  He would spill the blood of his own kin to make sure he was the one to spill Arthur’s. 

 

***

 

In his room, sat behind his desk, Arthur gripped the edge tightly, and desperately tried to concentrate on the knight standing in front of him.

“Take it.” He answered when again Sir Leon shook his head, and held out the scroll Arthur had just handed him. “Your actions have proved far worthier of the six months you requested, please take this with my gratitude.”

Leon looked down at the scroll again. In it Arthur had drafted a request that the knight be kept on permanent attendance within the citadel. A request from the prince to the knight’s captain was as good as a guarantee. It would mean no more border patrol.

Leon eventually bowed his head in acceptance. “Thank you, Sire.” He smiled.

Arthur looked down, pleased, and then regretted it. The moment his eyes were no longer distracted he was once more concentrating of Merlin fidgeting excitedly on his right-hand side.

“Although...” Leon’s hesitant voice snapped his head back up, and Arthur was grateful for it. “I would like it noted, I acted out of my loyalty for you sire, not for reward. What Kay was trying to…”

Arthur’s hand came up. He didn’t need anymore reminders of what Kay was trying to achieve, and instantly Leon stopped.

“I appreciate that, Leon,” Arthur smiled, genuinely touched by the knight’s dedication, “and it’s the reason I have given it to you. Now go, and say no more on the matter.”

Leon smiled and nodded once more before turning away.

Arthur bristled ever so slightly as Merlin moved away from him to show Leon to the door. As his servant leant in and whispered words, no doubt of his own thanks, Arthur felt a stab of jealousy at their easy show of friendliness. Quickly he smothered it with the knowledge that Merlin got on well with everyone, and that he was witnessing nothing more than that.

Still he couldn’t help calling out as they lingered by the door, sharing more secrets and casual smiles. “Leon!” he called, a little impatiently. “Send George in on your way out.”  

Arthur smiled to himself as Merlin’s face crinkled in confusion. He hadn’t shared his plans for the afternoon with his servant.

When he finally arrived, the younger guard looked far more nervous in the prince’s chamber than the older Knight had. His eyes flicked to Merlin, back standing at Arthur’s side, again and again, as if seeking some kind of reassurance from his presence. Arthur could understand that. He often found himself doing the same.

 “George,” Arthur greeted, his voice harsher than it needed to be. As much as he understood George’s wavering eyes he didn’t like them any more than Leon’s attention to Merlin. “I believe when you first agreed to take Merlin’s place I promised you something. I want you to know I do not make promises I do not intend to keep.”

George’s head snapped to Arthur, and even Merlin shifted next to him.

“There,” Arthur pointed to a small leather bundle at the end of the table. “Take it, it’s yours.”

George appeared frozen, his eyes only moving to where Arthur had pointed. After a moment Arthur waived Merlin forward and gestured for him to give the bag into George’s hands.

Although Merlin did as directed, Arthur couldn’t help but notice his wide eyes. The servant recognised the bag. It wasn’t surprising really. Arthur had sent it to his chambers at first, as by rights it belonged to Merlin. It had arrived back in his own room before the end of the day

 “Sire…I can’t…I didn’t do…” George was mumbling, his eyes transfixed on the contents of the heavy bag now in his arms.

“George!” Arthur snapped to gain his attention. “This coin is yours. It is the spoils of our competition. Take it and buy your house. You have done us a great service over the past few days, and we would have you know we are grateful.”

 Arthur had spoken as ‘we’ many times in the past; ‘we the court’, ‘we the pendragons’, ‘we the knights’ but this was the first time he had spoken as ‘we,’ meaning him and Merlin. He liked it. 

George’s thanks were effusive, stumbling, over-emotional. If he were a knight Arthur would have snapped at him again, but he was only a guard, and it seemed churlish to rebuke him just because of his happiness.

Merlin seemed to sense his discomfort, however, and after only one forced smile on Arthur’s part, he steered George back outside and away from the prince.

Arthur looked back down at the table as the men reached the door and George moved to hug Merlin. The display of affection felt almost taunting to Arthur for he knew it was something he could never do. Childishly he pushed the small pile of papers he had been working on, before Leon’s arrival, to the floor.

Before he could even blink, Merlin was on his knees next to him, retrieving them. Arthur looked up at the door, confused. He hadn’t even heard it close. When he looked back at Merlin he found the servant staring at him with an unflinching gaze. 

“Why did you give George the money?” Merlin questioned.

Arthur stood up, an unreasonable anger pulsing just below his skin. “It is as I said. I promised it to him, and you didn’t want it.” He paused and turned back, watching as Merlin placed his papers on the desk.  “Why didn’t you want it?”

Merlin just shrugged. “What would I have done with it? It was hardly earned.”

Arthur’s temper boiled. How could Merlin think he hadn’t earned the money? He had nearly died, what bigger sacrifice was there? “You could have sent it to your mother,” Arthur argued with a point sharpened to wound.  The comment worked perfectly and Merlin paled.  

“I… she… I send her most of my wage,” Merlin defended himself, “she lives well, she wouldn’t want…”

Arthur couldn’t stop himself from stepping towards his servant, instantly feeling bad for making him feel guilty, and reached a hand out to rest upon his shoulder. It had the desired effect. Merlin’s babbling stopped so quickly his mouth still hung open when Arthur forced himself to speak again, softly this time, and voicing his true fear. “You could have left with it.”

Merlin paled even further, and Arthur wasn’t sure if he felt a tremble pass through the boy. “You want me to leave?” His question sounded hurt and raw.

“NO!” Arthur’s response burst from him before he could stop it, and his fingers dug into Merlin’s shoulder, fearful that the boy was about to disappear in front of him.

Frustration flared across Merlin’s face before he tempered it with a deep breath.

Arthur fought against the urge to shake him. He had seen that restraint a thousand times over his years, people suppressing their true impulses before him, just because he was a prince. It had never bothered him as much as when he witnessed Merlin doing it, although to be fair that wasn’t as often as it probably should have been.  “No,” he repeated softly and honestly, “I don’t want you to go.”

“Then what do you want from me, Arthur?” Merlin demanded, this time not hiding his annoyance.  “I know you are still angry that I didn’t win. You keep sending me away, and talking as if I should leave but when I offer to go…” He hesitated, and looked briefly to Arthur’s hand still gripping him. “…you pull me back. I don’t need your money to leave Arthur, just your honest word on it. Fire me now and I will not return.”

Arthur dropped his hand from Merlin and turned away. His heart felt as if it were cramping in his chest. “My honest word?” he repeated, a half laugh in his voice. “My honest word is strangled by a crown. My wishes will never have voice. I do not send you away through anger, and I would not have you leave through choice. But if this is your way of resigning I acc…”

“ARTHUR no!” This time a response burst forward from Merlin, and before Arthur could blink, the servant was back in front of him, eyes wide and standing so close he was all Arthur could see. “Please,” he implored. “I don’t want to go anywhere. I just want…” His voice cracked, and Arthur’s throat tightened.

“What?” the prince begged before he could stop himself. He could stand no more self-censoring from Merlin, he needed to hear the end of that sentence.

Merlin’s eyes locked solidly on his, and he stepped even closer. Pressing their bodies together in a way that normally only happened in dark corners or during moments of danger. “I want…” his hand slid across Arthurs chest to rest where it had all those nights ago, “… to be here.”

Arthur fought to keep control of his breathing. Merlin’s words had a hundred meanings, most of which he couldn’t even beginning to acknowledge. “Even if you get hurt?” His eyes flicked down to that flash of white. Guilt assaulted him as usual before his mind raced forward to the future, and all he needed to do to keep his servant safe, including the curtailment of this very moment. “Even If I hurt you?”

Merlin smiled softly, as Arthur’s hands clasped over the top of his. “Even if this is my last breath.”

***

 


End file.
